Seeing Good and Innocence In Others Knowing they Are Unaware, And Joy From My Baby

          Written yesterday on my high in the morning, before a low hit.

          My daughter brings me joy in life. Yesterday, when she wouldn't fall asleep because of our long escapades in the street searching for jewelry and other important items, and the thirteen month old was up from a total of 2:20 pm until 11 pm, I got frustrated and gave her to my husband to rock. She flitted hysterically for me and pushed protestingly at my husband, reaching in my direction. I held my hands to take her back and comfort her. But an hour later it was getting ridiculous that she was still up, so my husband took over amid amid her protests and stubbornness, she feel into a deep sleep. I said she does love her father and it is okay for him to help her out too. I was so tired that my brain was barely functioning.

           I woke up with fright from a terrifying dream. I glanced at the time, hoping for early sunset. But alas it was only 2 am, a bit over an hour after I'd fallen asleep. I was thinking about my wayward cousin who was kind yet entrenched in a tangled codependent lifestyle, like most of her soroundings. She was especially pitiful to me because of her deep side that I always connected with, and I worried about her emotional health. But you can't fix anyone unless they are ready. So I dreamed about something dreadful happening to her, and it felt so real and tangible. I pleaded that I would fall back asleep and escape this nightmarish hour, and thankfully I did. Still, I learned a life lesson about what life really held in it's capabilities. It shook me and made me understand that I am not living for nothing. As Ralph Smart said yesterday, a way to know if you are the woke one in the group, is if people are leaving you because of your seriousness and intensity. This is how it is going in my life, and so it's hard to stay strong and not fall into doubt of myself. But when I go through these experiences, I know life is serious and I am important. I can be the one who people come to for assurance and strength. 

           So today, visiting my father in his rehab center, and he wasn't in the room, I saw his lone possessions in the cupboards. It was too much, and I began to cry. I asked myself why, but has no answer. Feelings don't explain themselves. I guess it was nostalgia and pity for my father, who lived so pitifully taking from others because of his low self-esteem. Like a baby mind in a grown man.  And I came to realize that it was not entirely his fault. I pitied him. Only he can change himself though. I gave him his cake that he so appreciated from me, as he's always loved what I created. He really loved me in his own way as I grew up in his care. Perhaps possessively, but how can I judge. I am here now, and made a life for myself. Recreated my thought processes. So I visit him as a stranger knowing the good that he did for me, and giving back what I could. My daughter cried suddenly, pitiful shrieks. I didn't know exactly why, but it must  been the stress. I took her lovingly and held her, ignoring my father's inevitable reaction of tension. I did not feel the tension, I was a separate being. I marveled in how I was able to love and comfort the little girl who was my own, and she relied on me. We were a unit.

          At home, she released some more tension and took apart my head scarf. I let her, and she laughed appreciatively, feeling her power again. Power to affect her surroundings. This is what I want, for her to see how she can make a difference. It gives her self-confidence, that I will love her as herself. She clutched my arm and fell asleep, and I felt happy and once again surprised by how much she needed and trusted me.