Tag Archives: mother-child

Fighting windmills? No time to do good stuff, let alone great stuff?

I just learned something terrible about myself. A lot of people hear me as if I were their father.
You see, in my family I was the dunce… meaning stupid. And even though I had straight A grades, and I was good at everything I tried, I remained stupid for my family.

How this works I don’t know. But this seems to be the dynamic: people make a decision about you, and then they never really look at you again.

You take it on, as the truth, and freeze into it. You allow it to guide you through life.
With me it was a little different, because I am defiant. I am not defiant to the person who speaks it, I am defiant to the saying. I am going to prove them wrong.
My brother, my older brother was the apple of my mother’s eye. He was smart, and good looking. And a boy. He had no challenge (as far as I can see it) because he didn’t look at life’s challenges as challenges… he didn’t study, and his grades were pitiful.
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What you say and what you do… when it comes to your children becoming educated, productive people

One of the signs of the overwhelming inauthenticity and low level of integrity is the gap between what people say and what people do.

We, my marketing student and I, have been surveying mothers and fathers of children to find out to what degree they care about their children’s future.
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The field: The invisible distinction that defines your consciousness

We look at life through the space we locate ourselves in.

When you go home for the holidays, you have a space inside which you interact with your mother. You have a space inside which you interact with your father, another space with your siblings.

Some people live their whole life out of one favorite space.

When you know what space you think you are in, and the other person makes no sense, that is because they relate to you inside a different space.

For example, Nancy lives inside Mother-child space. She is either the mother, or she is the child. When she is the child, I am either the mother (she loves that) or Not mother… she hates that. When she is the mother and I refuse to be the child, she throws a tantrum.

This is invisible for her. It’s the water she swims in.

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