My father's daughter

I know a lot of people who try to avoid the inevitable transformation into their parents. People who hear themselves repeating phrases or habits used by their mother or father and cringe at the thought of becoming like them.

I am not one of those people. Maybe sometimes I catch myself saying something that is typical of my mom or dad and roll my eyes....but more often than not, I find myself sort of laughing as I can hear my mother saying - "Just wait until you have kids!" and coming to terms with the fact that yes, I will probably say that to my children as well.

My mom and I, well we have been best friends since I was in the womb I think. I have never seen my mom as "the enemy" as some kids see their parents and I have rarely been afraid to tell her something. When I am stressed, scared or confused, I still long for my mother's arms to be wrapped around me, no matter how far I am from home.

My father and I have not always had this harmonious relationship. Not that I didn't always love him or anything of the sort, but we butted heads. A lot. Mostly when I was in my early adolescence and, as my mother pointed out, mostly because we are so much alike. I used to cringe at this statement because, ugh, no - I am nothing like my father. I am nothing like this man who won't let me go to France at 16 and makes me do my chores before anything else and all the other crazy! unreasonable! things my dad subjected my poor, torturted teenage self.

Have you rolled your eyes yet? Good. I deserve it.

We had our differences and it was easy for me to dismiss him because I was still at the age where I had yet to see my parents as anything BUT my parents. To kids, parents aren't people - they are just mom and dad. You don't consider their lives before you were born, you don't think about the heartache, pain, triumph and achievement they have experienced before and even after you arrived. All you know is - I'm here now - pay attention to meeeeee.

Then one day, you open your eyes and you see people. Two people who fell in love, got married, and had some babies. Two people who struggled and worked tirelessly to make a home, to give you things you needed and even things you didn't need at all. You see a woman who chose a full time job that did not let out at five o'clock, but instead required a round the clock, 24-hour a day schedule with no vacation time, no 401k, no sick time and definitely no stock options. You see a man who at one point worked THREE jobs just to make sure all of his kids wanted for nothing.

I don't remember when my dad and I finally saw eye to eye, but I do remember what it felt like to be proud to have been born to such wonderful parents. My father transformed before my eyes from someone who restricted what I could do and made all kinds of rules for me to live by to someone who protected me, who had spent his life working so that I could be happy.

And the truth is, I am exactly like my father. I am stubborn and opinionated and hard-working. My love for the Red Sox, the outdoors, the weather, and good french toast all came from him. When I have car trouble or need advice on money, jobs, or life, it is without hesitation that I call him. When I revealed to my parents one of the hardest things I have ever had to tell anyone, it is my father who was first to tell me that is was ok, that he would love me no matter what.

He has been travelling all over the country the past few months for a new job and frequently he pops into my head. I wonder where he is at any given moment or what he is doing. I look forward to hearing about his latest excursion and of course discussing the Sox's latest victory (or defeat, the latter being more likely).

I am definitely my father's daughter.

Zen

I worry. About pretty much everything. I worry about stupid things - whether or not I turned the heat down when I left the house or how I have yet to fold last week's clean laundry and am simply treating my hamper as a closet. I worry about petty things - why my hair seems flat today, how my eyebrows need to be plucked on an every other day basis (or why I am such a fanatic when it comes to my eyebrows). I worry about the state of the world - about the war, about starvation, about how much CO2 my car is spewing in the air every day contributing to the planet's fever. I am a worrier. I inherited this from my mother.

My level of worrying stems from a much larger issue, better known as the thing I am medicated for (anxiety). Though the drugs do help, there are certain things that have far and away been my saving grace when it comes to this problem. Yoga and mediation are up there along with constantly writing. Writing and buying books that I will eventually read. [Recently I received a gift card for Borders...which is the equivalent of giving an alcoholic a brand new bottle of single malt scotch. Bad news bears.] Meditation and all of the books I have read about meditation and spirituality have led me down such an interesting path over the last year. I find myself recognizing behaviors or tendencies that I have and finally being able to talk myself down from the proverbial cliff. When I meditate or pray, I am able to actually clear my mind, or mindfully acknowledge thoughts that I have and then refocus back on whatever mantra I have chosen.

I know a lot of people are skeptical about meditation or anything related to spirituality. Being raised Catholic but always disagreeing with everything I was taught, I never felt I could ever be fulfilled by a "higher power." I am a skeptic to my core which makes it hard to buy into anything that doesn't have a logical purpose and reason behind it. But this doesn't mean I don't want to believe in something. I just want it to be a true belief - not a belief in something that sounds like a really well-written fable for kids about an ark and a garden and magic acts. For some people, that is where their true belief lies. There is nothing wrong with this.

But it is not for me. I have searched for balance and poise and inner peace for as long as I can remember. It is only recently that this search has become a living, breathing part of my existence. Someone once told me, when I find myself worrying about what is to come or what has been, when I worry about all that I should be doing and all that I have done wrong - I need to remind myself to just. be. Be here, now, with whatever is happening and however you feel. Be sad if you are sad, calm if you are calm, angry if you are angry. Feel whatever it is you are feeling and don't worry that it is not the right thing to feel or the healthy way to think about things. Just be. I recite this to myself a lot. I take deep breaths and close my eyes and repeat this simple phrase whenever I find my head cannot locate one rational or peaceful thought.

So the point of my rambling this morning is just to say how thankful I am for the ability to attempt to find inner peace. I wish for nothing more than to be able to have that goal - balance in my life - and to remember that however unbalanced I may feel, I need to just be.