Karma Popcorn

I’m a mom. Some days, I don’t suck. Some days, well, I do. Seriously. And I hate myself for it. For a long time. And yet, not all of me is in hate mode. Some part is in guilt mode. Some part is in worry mode. Some part is in compassion mode (gets drowned out a lot by the hate/guilt/worry parts).

 

My son, his father and I were embroiled in a battle over homework/school. I live away from him, and it is difficult for me to parent the way that I would like to at a considerable distance (3000 miles). To sum it up, there was a lot of blame and shame (from me), and I just got angry that it didn’t seem like anyone else was “trying hard enough.” I mean, how DO you measure “trying?” I thought that things should be better than they are, and they weren’t, and it was because “no one was trying.” I refused to allow the idea of “trying AND not doing well” to enter my head. Stubborn Me! It’s a gift (and a curse).

 

So, I’m trying to get my business up and running, both offline and online, and it’s a serious learning curve (and I am nowhere near the summit). Along with getting my license in North Carolina as well as maintaining my license in Washington State, I’m figuring out online marketing, creating content, techy stuff, and other skills.

 

Two days ago, in the process of communicating with the people who have subscribed to my email list, I sent out an email with a dead link. I’d worked on that email 100 ways to Wednesday, checking for grammar and spelling, tone and content, and then I put a broken link in it. The worst part was that this was MY OWN LINK for my YouTube channel. When someone responded by email, saying that they couldn’t access the video with the link, I was horrified. I felt like such an idiot. Embarrassed, I responded, apologizing, and fixed the link. And then sat stewing in it for hours.

 

The irony of it all is that the link had to do with contempt, specifically self-contempt. The further irony is that I did try AND I did fail. I know what my son was experiencing, only to a much lesser degree because the person who pointed out my error was WAAAAY more gracious than I was to my son. The apology tonight will be hard. He is usually rather gracious, but I would completely understand if he weren’t, in this case.

 

Repairing relationships is hard.

 

Regret is harder.

 

What does this have to do with spiritual trauma?  To me, everything.  If I have damaged a relationship with someone, that is a form of spiritual trauma.  Taking ownership of it is my way to heal both myself and the person that I hurt.

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