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Fear is an emotion that is very real for many people. It varies in degrees but if we are honest, we all have at least one thing we fear. I will readily admit I am very afraid of snakes. The real thing, a snake on TV, a photo, they all strike fear into my very soul. This post isn't about that type of fear. Nor is it about the fear that is so prevalent across our country; i.e. the fear of people or cultures different than ours or the fear of someone breaking into our home and/or killing us. This is my story about a fear that colored my childhood.
My mother, who departed this plane of existence in 2008, was afraid. Her fears were not outwardly apparent but they perpetuated her daily existence. As a child growing up, I was not encouraged to try new things. If I took swimming lessons, I might drown. If I wanted to do anything that was out of my mother's comfort zone, I was discouraged from trying. When a friend asked me to sing at her wedding, my sweet mother did not sleep for weeks until the wedding was over. She just couldn't believe that I sang and no one threw any tomatoes at me. Later when I interviewed for my first job, she was sure this was a mistake. It wasn't. Thank goodness I was just as stubborn as she was.
Later in my marriage, my former husband kept the ball rolling by criticizing everything I did and questioned my motives for any type of advancement I sought. The fear continued.
I understand why both my mother and former husband did what they did. It was fear that was driving them. My mother was raised in an environment that was less than encouraging. My former husband was raised in a very volatile environment. So what does one expect? Fear.
As a mom, I understand the feelings a parent has. Mothers and fathers want their child to succeed. Most parents will do anything to keep their child safe. There is a limit, however, to safety. As the saying goes "a ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." There is a time to let go.
For many years, I have felt my life would have been "better" if my mom had been different. Maybe, maybe, maybe. The fact is my life is good. In fact, it is fantastic! I have grown through my trials and frustrations to the woman I am today. I hope with all my heart I am imparting what I learned from my mother to my daughter. My mother taught me many things: how to paint a room, how to cook, how to take care of baby chickens and lambs (in the kitchen no less), how to be kind to all people no matter of race or nationality, etc.
Very recently I made peace with the woman who was my earthly mother, Alyda Wolfmeier Eckert. You see, now that she has moved on to her next realm of existence, everything is clear. She told me in a dream. All is well. All is love.
So the moral of this story is to be cautious, not fearful. Fear can protect but it can also hinder one's evolution into something miraculous. Take chances. If you have a dream, go for it.
To Alyda I say: "Thank you for being you. Thank you for coming to me and helping me to understand. I love you. I appreciate you. May this new journey you are on be one of much joy, love and courage."
As for my former husband, well that is a story for another time.
Peace and Blessings,
Mareda
www.maredaeckert.com
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