I have a friend and fellow blogger who recently wrote a post on the commodification of water. I read posts like that and realize that there are definitely different types of blogging. His post was intellectual and dealt with big picture, important issues. But I’m really not so much about big-picture type things, other than the piece of the big picture that I can contribute to. Hopefully, at the end of the day, or the end of the post, I do contribute something to the big picture, as that is my heart. The best way I can do that is to express who I am.
Today, I’m writing about the Christmas cactus given to me by my grandmother about 10 years ago. When she gave it to me, she told me it was over 100 years old, which I found amazing, as it had been passed down through the family, and here it was, in my home, connected to all those people. I believe she said my great-grandmother had brought it to Oklahoma with her when they came for the Land Run of 1889. It has bloomed faithfully each year at least once, usually around Easter. I love the beautiful flowers. I treasure my Christmas cactus.
Recently, I noticed my cactus leaves were withering. Greg and I decided to re-pot, and sped to Lowe’s to choose a larger pot. Came home with a large, ceramic pot, and Greg gave it all new soil and a new, fresh environment. He trimmed and pruned and we wished it well. But, the cactus still isn’t thriving.
Another long-standing idea my grandmother passed down to me was the idea of not being enough. Don’t get me wrong — she never told ME I wasn’t enough, but she clearly believed that she wasn’t. Grandma created a beautiful life, and shared her creativity in so many ways with her family and friends. Each of my children has a homemade Raggedy Ann/Andy doll she hand-stitched from start to finish, including the clothes. I have written elsewhere about the privilege it is for me to have her china cabinet in my home. She was a inspiration for me, a strong woman, capable on the farm, a wondrous cook, full of humor and fun, patient with untangling the marionette strings we tangled up day after day, patient with grandchildren asking for help removing the ubiquitous Oklahoma stickers from our feet.
Grandma’s fear of not being enough wasn’t unique to her, but I bought the idea hook, link, and sinker. In my younger years, I tried hard to contradict the belief she had about herself. I saw her as a marvel, a light, a beacon, and I wanted her to see herself like I saw her.
I never convinced her.
I recently attended an event called Unleashing the Power Within. Part of that event includes addressing limiting beliefs. My mind finally understood that the belief of not being enough has been in my life, and has wielded great power. Yet, somehow I left that belief behind when I left the Greater Ft. Lauderdale/Broward County Convention Center.
Is the Christmas cactus a picture of the belief system that she passed down to me, with love? Is the cactus no longer thriving because the belief system is no longer thriving? To the extent that the cactus represents the limiting belief Grandma embodied and lived, I am ready to let it go. Even if the cactus revives, the belief system is gone. Whatever happens to the cactus, my life has changed and will never be the same.