Making meaning
Posted on | October 17, 2006 | 17 Comments
My camera, which over the past year has become something like an extension of my eye, is in the shop for repairs, and already I’ve gone bumbling around the house twice looking for it, forgetting it’s not here. It mysteriously started giving me ‘error 99′ messagesm and I am mourning it’s absense. So much to capture with the lense right now. T rain-slicked backs of the water buffalo down the road; the trees, almost leafless, and bending in the wind; the moon like a splash of milk against the gray tablecloth of the stormy night sky.
I’m also struggling this week to process the issues that have surfaced around all the school shootings that have happened recently–the one I was in, and the others. I’m trying to find a context for forgiveness, and trying to understand the purpose of such violence and evil–if there is indeed a purpose. I find myself grappling with faith. On one hand, I believe deeply in the intrinsic spiritual nature of the universe, but on the other hand, I feel like the weft has been pulled out from the tapestry of meaning that I’ve constructed over the past twenty years. I’m left with shreds, and faith is a poor medium for mending rent cloth.
One thing I know: that there is a remarkable power in forgiveness. I’ve written several posts about the connection I see between forgiveness and generosity. To forgive is a profoundly generous act, and I try to live by this daily, in whatever way I am able. Yet it is hard to have this be enough, when all around me people place blame, point fingers, become angry. I don’t know enough about Ghandi, but I’m thinking about him tonight.
In my house, the person who teaches me endless lessons about mindfulness and abundant love, is my son. He’s so fun and wild and sweet. His smile is still unadulterated and pure as sunshine–no alterior motive, no secondary list of items to accomplish with his grin. He simply is.
Tonight, it was just the two of us at home with the wind whipping rain into the windows. We painted before bed. I recently bought new tubs of acrylic paint, and used the lids from each container for him to dip his brush into. He made a wild mess. A glorious blur of streaks and color, all over his hands, the page, the floor. I love watching him do this–watching as he tries the color, or explores the way the brush spatters paint.
Being with him asks me to be more. Maybe being a mother it isn’t the entire reason, but it’s part of the reason I keep coming back to this hard stuff again and again, trying to make meaning, to grow beyond the very small boundaries of my self. Or maybe, being a mother has simply ripped my heart wide open, so I feel everything a little more.
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17 Responses to “Making meaning”
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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October 18th, 2006 @ 12:18 am
visit praythenews.com
October 18th, 2006 @ 1:28 am
You’ve brought me to tears. Your mother’s heart, yes, it’s powerful. But deeper, and before you were a mother, there was you…someone who seems to hunger for the real-ness and richness of life, in all its textures. Your art, your words…they are an extension of you, the tapestry of your inner world. And when the grins and giggles of your son reflect upon your heart…it’s magical. Thank you for the authentic sharing of you, both the sheer joys and the searing struggles.
Forgiveness. A piece of life I’ve grappled with on many levels. And bottom line for me is that the miracle of forgiveness is that it does not mean one forgets. It’s something that changes the alchemy between the event itself, its consequences, and the offering of forgiveness. And despite what many proclaim, forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves because it frees us to move on, to integrate the offense in a way that does not poison our existence. It doesn’t erase it. It doesn’t change the other person. It changes me. Sometimes slowly because making a place for the “gift” can take time. Sometimes it happens at varying degrees. But always it carries a freedom my heart recognizes – even when my brain can’t explain it. Forgiveness can’t be forced. Please be gentle with yourself.
And again, thank you. You’ve created a place in blog-land that feds my soul and encourages my spirit.
October 18th, 2006 @ 2:50 am
Every time you write you bring meaning to yourself and to us all. thank you
October 18th, 2006 @ 2:58 am
There is a buddhist meditation where you picture yourself sitting across anyone that you feel a strong emotion towards. Either negative or positive. You imagine swopping bodies with them starting with the internal organs and ending with your eyes. Once you have swopped eyes you look at yourself through the other person’s eyes.
I believe the more we try and change ourselves – starting with forgiveness and seeing how difficult it can be, we have more compassion for others, stumbling around in the dark, not even aware of what they want to change yet. For me fogiveness originates in this compassion, first for self and then for others.
October 18th, 2006 @ 5:45 am
Children can be such gifts during times when we’re struggling to understand the unthinkable. I’m glad you have your little guy to help heal your heart.
October 18th, 2006 @ 7:47 am
I truly believe that having children opened me up to a whole new world–of love, and hope, and forgiveness. It must be the same for others.
October 18th, 2006 @ 8:20 am
These are hard questions with no easy answers. In my darkest hours, I have found peace in my faith in Jesus. In the Bible, the gospel of John is a great book to read.
Your last line about being a mother ripping your heart wide open so you feel everything a little more is so true. Being a mother makes us so desperate to survive, to raise our kids, to protect them. The evils of the world seem so much closer now, don’t they?
October 18th, 2006 @ 10:12 am
“Or maybe, being a mother has simply ripped my heart wide open, so I feel everything a little more.” Isn’t it the truth!
October 18th, 2006 @ 11:45 am
For me also, finding purpose, meaning, truth and answers has become much more urgent after having children. I’m not just worried about myself, about my faith, or my compass, I -we- are now responsible for building the scaffolding of another human being’s beliefs and values and ideas about family, life, the world. We live in turbulent times. It is impossible to physically protect our children from every danger and evil in the world. (And isn’t it painful to admit that as a mother?) But we can give them tools to face the world. Faith. Forgiveness. Love. Hard work. Integrity. Service. We can’t control others violent actions; we only have power to control ourselves, and as mothers, the power and gift to influence what our children will give to the world, to their families and communities.
October 18th, 2006 @ 12:42 pm
Oh Christina, what a wonderful post — forgiveness is so important, on so many levels, and on a daily basis, I think. Keep allowing your son to teach you things and I only feel like you will continue to grow as a mother. Bean is lucky to have such an amazing one already!
October 18th, 2006 @ 1:35 pm
I’m going to scrounge up a passage of Madeleine L’Engle’s to send to you – where it deals with the very nature and timing of forgiveness. It’s definitely helped me through the years, as I struggle with forgiving those who have not physically hurt me but emotionally. Of course over and over again I’m drawn to that pesky Jesus guy who insists on forgiveness – insists, I believe, because he knows that life cannot be abundant without learning how to forgive, learning how to be forgiven. But, as I think C.S. Lewis said, if you want to forgive, you’ve got to start with something smaller than the Gestapo. You are not supposed to be over your hurt yet, my sweet Christina, no one expects it of you. Lyric’s comment above is spilling over with wisdom, as well -
Absolutely your heart is more tender now that you’re a mother – it is a whole new sort of love, one that I only glimpse at this point.
October 18th, 2006 @ 1:57 pm
“He simply is.”
So many lessons in this phrase. How beautiful that you recognize that your son is your teacher.
October 18th, 2006 @ 4:14 pm
your images always awaken my senses and encourage me to look at the world with new eyes…
October 18th, 2006 @ 6:30 pm
maybe the meaning lies in the way that you endeavor the questions-with grace and courage-rather than in whatever answers are ultimately arrived at?
thanks for asking the questions.
October 19th, 2006 @ 12:22 am
How true that last line is. Motherhood has exposed every fiber of my reptilian brain.
October 20th, 2006 @ 2:57 am
there is so much in your post that i want to respond to. so much i resonate with. but i think i will just let you know that there is someone across the way that is right there with you in your thoughts and feelings and gets it. your heart is beautiful and inspiring. xo
October 23rd, 2006 @ 9:13 pm
amazing post and amazing discussion. thank you to all who have commented! it’s really moving. i feel like i have had a major upload of wisdom here.
i agree so completely with your sentiments on motherhood, Christina. you are such a beautiful soul and i join others in thanks for your generous sharing.
xo