THE JOURNEY

THE JOURNEY – The Early Years, Part 3

Although some experiences of our loss can be shared, the deep-rooted psychological effects can never truly and deeply be understood and felt by anyone else, as our feelings are completely unique to us.

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If we are attempting to understand another person’s deepest sorrow, consider that the most important thing to anyone is the gift of compassion.

When we present with compassion it takes the focus off ourselves and places it where it needs to be in that moment. 

We may believe we understand someone’s sorrow, but how can we, honestly, when we have not lived their journey, one moment at a time? 

A young Wesley Albert (Dad) – Mt. Clear, Ballarat

As dad had now passed, it was time to acknowledge and accept that he was definitely not going to be coming back home – ever again!

Although there would have been a certain amount of discussion and understanding of this for some time beforehand, these things never appear to be real until such time they eventually are, and even then, we can still live in a fantasy world, living in the land of hope, and still wish for our special angels to appear in front of us – at will.

It is fair to say that the sudden change in my regular routine left me feeling lost in a world that was so unrelatable to the bubble I had been all too familiar with over the years. My whole life had been dramatically altered in more ways than anyone could have ever imagined. Our little family was having to individually deal with this inconceivable void in our lives, as well as deal with it as best we could as a family of now only 3.

How could we move through this together without further fearing the loss of  our sanity, innocence, and soul? Would we ever gain back the blessing of experiencing life with true happiness and joy again? We all had major adjustments to make, our lives needed to keep moving, but how, and in which direction? It was not easy going forward, and in some ways still, I feel the only way I have grown is through the aging process. Of course, in reality this is not true, but it certainly can feel like it at times.

If you do not learn to deal with trauma, you will no doubt find that life has a way of holding you back from many of it’s joyous moments and opportunities.

The way in which we all grieve, mourn and deal with our losses is unique to us all, and what I’m about to soon mention as I express my way through this chapter, may seem strange and possibly crazy to those who have not been confronted with such experiences to date. Then again, to many others it may be so relatable and comforting to know that their feelings are acknowledged as completely natural and OK by those who totally get it.

You see, when it comes time for our loved ones to leave our shore and we begin grieving the tremendous loss of their absence in our lives, often in cases where there has been long term circumstances we may also mourn the additional associations that came along with their ill-fated journey too.

Understandably I can only speak for myself here, but in my family’s case, after having created such an ingrained habitual routine of experiences over the years; the visits back and forth to the hospital and all that had become so familiar in connection to those visits, for the likes of bonding with staff etc, which was inevitable under the circumstances, I personally felt an extended loss as the hospital had became a second home.

Memorable experiences of compassion, empathy and understanding, along with that little extra special treatment that children in special cases tend to receive was what I was needing at that time in my life. Once it had all been taken away from me there was a sense of even less comfort and security – I no longer had the regular comfort and respite of the hospital bubble, life felt far less secure and kind. I was spending more time in a world that appeared to me to be less tolerable of quiet and shy children. I recall a time at school of the harsh and cruel treatment I was subjected to at one stage, all because I no longer had my dad. Kids will find anything to hit you with if you are an easy target for them to release their very own frustrations and insecurities.

Me – 3rd row up, 2nd one in.
I was clearly not happy at this time and unfortunately my favourite teacher got ripped for it. One of many early year photos I regrettably destroyed.

Life for an introverted shy child was not made any easier when mum made a decision to uproot us from our family home (for her health’s sake – that’s another story to be touched on at a later date). This to me was not a choice I’d fall in love with, for a couple of reasons – one being, I was not only leaving comfortable and familiar surroundings, but I was also being forced to leave behind a home that had many memories of which my dad had been very much a huge part of, and I simply  wasn’t ready for that huge step forward as I felt like I was being separated from him and his memory yet again. The second reason for not being over the moon to move was the thought of starting over in a new school, this did not excite me much at all, in fact, I was terrified.

With now having moved from one place to another my fears began to set in as reality. I was now the new girl in school, and this of course was of some interest to the other students. Much focus was placed on me which obviously made me feel quite uncomfortable, as any introverted, shy child would feel.

Treatment towards me wouldn’t change if I didn’t make changes within myself, but how was I to do that if I didn’t know how, or at least have the courage and confidence to do so?

I continued to be the same shy little girl who found it challenging to socialise generally, let alone comfortably fit in to a new environment where – as most of the students had grown up knowing each other from their very early years, had formed strong friendships.

Now, imagine my surprise when I was chosen by my teacher as one of only two students from my school to be accepted to attend the annual Somers School Camp. Only a few children get the privilege to experience such an amazing opportunity, where schools from around the state merge each July holidays for what is truly a unique and special time.

When the teacher spoke of the decision to the class, it was obvious that a few of the pupils were not going to be so supportive of the decision, nor towards me – at all! One girl in particular who was – dare I say, strong in character, let me know quite clearly that I should not have been the chosen one – that another of her friends deserved the opportunity more than I did. This call-out was at a point when half the class, so it seemed, were gathered together at the back of the room (teacher was absent) ready to hit me with their ridicule and disapproval. The situation only concretised my fears and concerns of whether or not I’d been sincerely accepted into my new school, and of course only made me feel even smaller, as I had yet to learn how to stand up and speak up for myself.          

You see, in times where I would experience criticism and conflict in my life, I would often hear these compassionate words of advise …

….. “Hold the peace, Love – just hold the peace!” 

That phrase was one my mum would often tell herself in her early years, as she too had good reason to believe they would hopefully keep her safe from abuse in her own home if she adhered to them. I never asked, but I sense that they were words passed on to her from her mother too. 

That phrase was so ingrained within both our minds that it became a part of our instinctual response whenever we felt any connection to a rising conflict within our environment. Although those words where intended to keep us safe on the outside world, they had the opposing effect on our inside world.

Imagine if you will, the consequences of living a life always holding the peace ~ rarely speaking a word in your defence – when either feeling threatened physically, emotionally or psychologically, be it within the community or your own home environment. Eventually those words can cause more harm than their nature intended – they imprison your true inner peace and happiness in a place that appears challenging to ever access. The inner torture endured can take it’s toll on your health and life in ways you would not generally wish on anyone. 

Feeling hopeless and helpless, or at the very least, uncomfortable with conflict, can lead to the idea that isolation appears the safest and best option to preserve our sanity, but really – is it? OF COURSE NOT! But it’s only natural to seek what we each feel appropriate to keep us feeling safe – whatever that method may be.

I’m sure, had we known better at the time and courageously treated ourselves with more respect and compassion, circumstances may have turned out much differently in those moments.

Fortunately, when blessed with the gift of time and understanding, it is possible to resolve the many demons and inner conflicts of perceived inadequacies and fears that have been haunting us for years. The first step – acknowledge them for what they were in their true essence – lessons that built our character. Secondly –  that we are all worthy of happiness, regardless of what has been actioned towards us ~  and Thirdly – go on a journey of self discovery –  learn about self compassion and self care.

Now I’m not saying that it is an easy road to travel – far from it, as it does take courage. We also need to give ourselves permission to become vulnerable, as it is a part of the healing process too. Being courageous and vulnerable are what’s needed to live our truth and also what’s necessary should we want to experience inner piece, but we also need to strive for patience, self compassion, love, and the understanding that we are totally worth it!”

If we all took the time to learn about, and practice the important aspects of self discovery, we’d realise that achieving inner peace is possible, and when we each experience inner peace, there will be a lot less disharmony within our communities and families and a lot more love shared with each other and the world.

My past experiences are serving their purpose, as I acknowledge that good must come from them. They will not be wasted, nor forgotten, but they can and will be forgiven in the hope to help and support others too.      

Mum and I – Mid 1980s

Never Let Any Circumstance Go By Without Attempting To

See The Lesson and Purpose Of It’s Existence,

For There Is – Generally a Hidden Gift!

Let the journey continue ……

Follow The Journey thread @ nurturingme-naturally.com.au and in future editions of Nurturing Our Souls – Naturally!

May You Walk In Love, Light & Peace,

Donna-Lynn

THE JOURNEY

THE JOURNEY – THE EARLY YEARS (Part Two)

DONNA-LYNN’S PERSONAL JOURNEY –

There may be times when we want to give up, give in - just throw in the towel, because life seems so dark, exhausting and unjustifiably cruel.

I, like so many others when in a dark place, in times past have considered leaving this place for another due to the harsh cruelty and seemingly unjust ways personally endured, but something, something much deeper within always held me here as I was not yet destined to leave this world. It was not until recent years that I understood why, and began to appreciate my earlier traumatic experiences, to acknowledge them as the blessings they are today.

As challenging as it may appear, consider for a moment the reason you came to this earth, the reason you took your first breath. Consider the purpose, the meaning of walking among the people you know and love and the people you once knew – inclusive of ALL family members, classmates, friends, work colleagues – even the people you meet and have connected with in the street – favourable connections or otherwise! Understand that nothing appears just by chance. Our life has been planned and there is a reason we came to live the experiences we are now living, and to journey the path we continue to travel. We each have a purpose, we just need to learn, and realise what that purpose is through each days experience and the lives of those we touch.

…. the only time I ever felt unconditionally and undeniably loved, genuinely and
sincerely appreciated, completely and totally safe, trusted and understood, was in the
presence of my mum. As the years went on, we came to understand each other’s
uniqueness and special qualities on a deeper level, a soul level, something I had been
challenged to experience in any other person, that was, until ….

Shortly after I was born my dad became extremely ill and began the journey of a long, suffering, and debilitating illness (as explained in the previously edition of NOS-N) which eventually some years later caused his parting from this world as a young man.

Dad and I in one of our earlier caravans at the beach
(Sea Breeze Caravan Park Geelong). Purchased later was a bungalow positioned on the sands of the parks shore line – See below.
Sadly, the park no longer exists – Progress!

Many special holidays experienced at this special place.

Prior to my dad being relieved from a world of physical, emotional and psychological torment and pain, and still only in his 40s, the routine of my family pretty much revolved around regular, if not daily, hospital visits. Understandably we spent as much time with dad as possible. Hospital to me felt like a second home for many years and the memories I hold are still looked upon with deep and mixed emotion.
One such memory is of how we were compassionately and empathetically cared for by hospital staff over the years. Mealtimes for me were always a treat when it came to Shepherd’s Pie night at one particular hospital (dads full time medical care was provided by two repatriation hospitals over the years). I could always count on a plate being set aside for me each time it was on the menu – the staff knew me well and I have never tired of sitting down to, what could be my favourite dish. To this day whenever I see it elsewhere on a menu it always takes me back to a special and precious time of my childhood.

As a child I had no idea of what possibly would lay ahead of us as a family. I was not aware of, or privy to our family’s health history but would later hear the reference to dads condition being that of – “The Family Curse”. I was sheltered from the many relatives who had succumbed to this cruel illness at such young ages and the fact that there was, and still is, no cure. You see, once my mum realised what was happening to our little family, she did what she thought to be the caring and safe thing to do – shelter her girls from witnessing a generational illness that could possibly one day lead to being our own fate too.

Pretty much all visits to dads’ side of the family were paused, so of course my experiences and memories are limited. But given that we then lived in Melbourne and dad’s `full blood` (dad also had six x 1/2 blood siblings in Western Australia) family were in Ballarat (Australia), near on a couple of hours drive back then, the journey in those days would have been lengthy and exhausting for mum. Little time would have been available to us anyway due to the regular visits to the hospital and mums working commitments, which were understandably necessary to pay the bills and put food on the table. Life was quite the shuffle, not an ideal life for anyone, let alone a child. It was school during the day and shortly after school, trips to the hospital then off to Nans where my sister and I would sleep whilst mum would go off to work a night shift. Of a morning we would be woken to rise (way much earlier than if we were at home) to make the trip back to get ready for school to then begin the cycle again.

Dad (being supported by our back door handrail) and I on a summer’s day.

With only a couple of months earlier having marked the day of dads 46th birthday (Correction to magazine. Entry noted as 47th birthday), mum had the challenging and arduous task of laying him to rest just one week before my 8th birthday. As a child I could not possibly have imagined nor comprehended the devastation, torment and feelings of loneliness and abandonment mum, as a young devoted and loving wife (although she still had her 2 girls) would have been experiencing at that time, actually, at anytime at all really!

Understandably there I was, a young vulnerable 7-year-old child entering my 8th year, a time that was meant to be a part of my most innocent, protected and playful of all, having to deal with my own torment and feelings of loneliness, abandonment and heartbreak, as was my older sister too, although she, standing in the shoes of a young impressionable middle teen.

There’s just no way a young 7yr/8yr old child could ever feel the true sense of psychological and emotional loss of a much loved partner, nor understand the deep pain and anguish of a teenager’s loss of her father either, a teenager who’d previously been blessed with many precious, earlier and adventurous years of a healthy family life, that was, until shortly after her baby sister entered this world. Also, it should go without saying, anyone attempting to understand or interpret the exact state of mind and emotional state of a younger child who is experiencing such grief, would be furthermore challenged to say the least.

Once dad’s time came to pass other challenges and adjustments fell upon us, as of course our lives would never be the same again.
Although my mum, sister and I had just experienced our greatest loss together – our personal experiences could never be compared to each other, nor totally understood. The 7 year age difference between my sister and I would prove to be challenging for mum for various reasons.

As a young child I later realised the hard way that there was much to learn and understand about having a parent pass over. At the time, and for many years later I felt responsible for my dad’s passing, this is not unusual for a child to experience and believe in such times of trauma. Given the impressionable and undeveloped state of a child’s brain and their conditioning, children often feel responsible for the sudden absence of a parent, believing that they are the ones that made them leave, regardless of the truth and reality. My belief was that I had somehow made my father ill, considering I had learnt he had become ill so shortly after my birth. How was I to know or understand otherwise as I was so compassionately sheltered from a life I did not know existed.

In the years to follow, with maturity and wisdom, I later realised that of course dads passing had nothing to do with me, although I had always thought if I had not come into this world he would not have passed so young.

My Dad Prior to His Illness

Never Let Any Circumstance Go By Without Attempting To See The Lesson and Purpose Of It’s Existence, For There Is – Generally a Hidden Gift!

and the journey continues……

Love Light & Peace,
Many Blessings,
Donna-Lynn

Link to magazine: