SighMess Congestion

The title is both a play on words and a say-it-aloud sound alike of what my congestion sounds like when I talk. The whammy is that sighmess (instead of sinus) is far more accurate than either a head cold or a sinus congestion could be.

Sighmess Congestion is what happens when there is so much clutter and mess to take care of that one begins to sigh more than Mary Hartman. Sigh. Such is the case with my situation for needing to empty my mother's apartment in the next three weeks. When I go there (and I don't even have to travel the 150 miles to L.A., I am equally as capable of 'going there' in my head) and look around at the clutter and mess and the huge amount of work it is going to take to clear it out, I short-circuit and don't get anything done except make myself emotionally weary. And based on the early writings of Louise Hay, congestion in the body reflects congestion in the world around us. Bingo. Because now even our house is more cluttered as I try to integrate and/or disburse some of Mom's belongings.

Some of this sounds pretty basic to Science of Mind students. And here is the really interesting part of all this. I called my mother this week to check in on her and she sounds exactly like I do-- all stuffed up and is having almost identical symptoms. She is in a nursing home in L.A. and I am here in sunny San Diego and we are in synch. Crikey, I am projecting and manifesting her 'stuff.' Well, once I realized what I was doing on a psychic level, I shifted my part in this drama and my energy began to return; and I began to feel better. I bet Caroline Myss would have a lot to say about this, too.

Beyond doing what one does to not have a cold or sinus condition, I am also working feverishly (very pointed and selected word on my part) doing everything I can do here at home to clean up and clear up the dust, the mess, the clutter around the house. I am also preparing myself to have that same fervor for my upcoming L.A. trips.

Often, I longed for having the type of relationship with my mother that I perceived others having. You know, the June Cleaver-esque dynamic where the mother taught her daughter life skills by conscious methods and applications. Instead, most of the things I have learned about life from my mother came about as the inverse. Yes, my spiritual practice and maturity have taught me that Mom did the best she could. She had a hard life and not very good teachers. Mom continues to teach me even during this time of hospice and transition. I find that many of the long-held negative patterns are cropping up for she and I to deal with and heal. She may not know she is healing them but when she said to me yesterday on the phone, "I am just going to go inside for awhile and I don't want to talk to anyone" it was her way of saying she is doing some inner work and contemplation. This is new behavior on her part. Mom has spent the last 20+ years of her life in avoidance both physically (she was almost a full agoraphobic) and emotionally. I know that the reason she hasn't made her transition yet is that on some level she knows that she agreed to do "the work" --she didn't give birth to this kid for nothing-- and is doing what she can to take care of some things in the subconscious level of her being.
Deep.

My charge now is to stay open and alert. I must also find a way to stay detached without seeming insensitive. I remind myself to deal with her from a Practitioner concsiousness instead of merely the daughter subjected to this challenging scenario.
Somewhere she and I made a covenant for this lifetime and I learned what I know now so that I could assist her; and so that I could break some ancient bonds that has held my family hostage to ignorance and fear. I want to release this sighmess so I can be a clearer instrument of compassion and service. I think Mom would like that.