The trip to see my mom weighs a bit heavy on me. Seeing her beat up, confused, and in such a vulnerable place is hard to come to terms with. Although I was able to get down to Albuquerque and help her, conceivably doing a lot during the half a week I was there, part of me still feels guilt and a sense that I failed her. My heart was hardened and I had a hard time not getting sharp and short with her. Part of me used the easy excuse, blaming it on her bitterness to justify my own meanness. I could have shown up in a more loving/present way, dissolving the stimuli that prompted my stubborn approach.
On the drive back I drove into a rainstorm, and as the rain began to fall, harder and harder, so came my tears. I realized that my inability to love my mother fully was a failing of my own creed and personal ethics. I saw the rain fall over the desert plains nourishing the arid roots, and with a sense of desperation, prayed that my tears and reflections would analogously soften my heart, allowing the true expression of love I’ve been estranged from to come pouring out. I vow to make an effort to be present, to really do the internal work necessary so that the light and love I have to share with humanity can once again beam freely.