In my quest to be fearless and adventurous, I am going to open myself up today and be vulnerable as I share a window into my past, and reexamine some of the tumultuous twists and turns that shaped my journey.
My childhood was anything but normal. Chaotic, unstable and unstructured are just a few words that defined my early years. Parenting? Not so much, especially if you define it in the terms of parental control, boundaries and rules, which were pretty much non-existent.
For all intents and purposes, my childhood would classify as the textbook definition of dysfunctional. Mentally unstable, chain-smoking mom divorces alcoholic, philandering, chain-smoking dad and then attempts to raise three children on her own – while dad gets to be the “fun dude” my older siblings and I visit in the summer and the gift-bringing “drunk Santa” at Christmas. Not exactly a “Leave it to Beaver” classical upbringing and I know many of you reading this can relate as well.
Not so unusual for those days – but in my little town in Oklahoma, I was the only one with a divorced mom at the time.
And she wasn’t just the smoking, cursing, always spoke her mind, single parent – my educated, beautiful mom also suffered from bipolar disorder with schizophrenia. The first breakdown (I was privy to) happened when I was ten years old. It would be the first of many more annual manic/depressive episodes (each requiring long periods of hospitalization) which would rock my world. Sadly, her hospitalizations often occurred at Christmas time. So I would find myself living with whoever was gracious enough to take care of me, my aunt and uncle, my pastor, my best friend’s parents, etc.
Like sands being washed away from under my feet, my world was constantly shifting; I struggled to find a firm foothold on life. Deeply craving a stable environment, I desperately wanted what all my friends had – a two parent home where everything seemed to run like a well-oiled machine. From the outside looking in – the grass definitely looked greener on their side of the fence.
But suddenly when I turned 13, my perspective and therefore my reality began to change. As I entered adolescence and had a more enlightened view of people, social norms and manmade constructs, I discovered something unusual. My mom was the cool mom that everyone could talk to. She just got it – the angst, the peer pressure, the pain of feeling “left out” – all of the stuff I was going through, it’s as if she could read it on my face before I said a word. And fortunately for me, with my older sister and brother in college, as a teen I had her undivided attention . . . and she was an amazingly good listener. Unconventional as she was, agnostic, “crazy” mom – became my most trusted confident, my best friend, my soft place to fall. Not because of all the things she wasn’t – but because of the things she was.
While I thought I was missing so much – I began to appreciate more of what I did have. My mom was extremely well-read and intellectual in her views, so thankfully she instilled in me an unquenchable love for learning. She could sometimes be a little crass and crude (definitely no filters) but I loved her snarky wit, her intelligence and her acute intuition about people. She loved every kind of music, from classical and show tunes to Johnny Cash, the Tijuana Brass and Roger Miller – there was hardly a day without music filling the smoke-laden air. (Not surprising then, that I would go on to major in music and dabble in song writing.)
Sadly, my mother who had the most beautiful mind but chemically flawed brain, died from breast cancer when I was just 19 years old. And while I felt empty and deeply heart broken by her death, ultimately I found myself filled with gratitude every day for the lesson I learned from her life – which would mold and shape the woman, wife and mother I would become.
I found out, that in the midst of chaos and non-conformity to societal role models, I had the most important foundation a child could hope for and that was “unconditional love”, which Scott Peck in his best-selling book The Road Less Travelled says, “covers a multitude of sins.” And in that beautiful soft place of non-judgmental love which my very unconventional mom provided, I had the freedom to not only find myself but to also fully be myself – a gift I am thankful for every day of my life.
The Zen Den
Hello and welcome to The Zen Den. My name is Alison and while I am passionate about many things, my most inspiring driving force is human connection. Blogger, content writer, orthopedic exercise specialist, motivational speaker, international yoga pro, published songwriter, avid poker player, mom and wife are just a few of my titles. But when I do my job at NASA, I am known simply as “The Fairy Zenmother” a role I deeply love because people invite me into their space to help them find their center, relax and stretch their muscles and destress their mind. Here in the blogosphere version of The Zen Den, I invite you into my world where I will explore ideas for creating a better tomorrow and a kinder today. And hopefully, with insight, authenticity and humor; my words, observations and experiences will help you feel calm, centered, intellectually challenged and spiritually enlightened. Alternatively, if you have something you would like to see covered in The Zen Den, just let me know. Your feedback is welcome and valuable to the success of this blog. Finally, my heart is filled with gratitude to have this opportunity to share with all of you.
My mother is schizophrenic as well. While she is not all the positive things you mentioned about yours….. my mother could be counted upon for unconditional love. I’ve always joked that if I called to tell my mom I was strung-out on heroin and pregnant with a Martian baby she would say “yay I’ve been wanting a new grandbaby!” While she has never pushed me to be more or do more it feels good to know that one person in the world thinks that who I am at this moment is just perfect.