Have a Shay Day....
I abandoned myself at a very young age. Left myself flat. In my mind, I couldn't get life right. I didn't know this consciously back then. And now looking back, it's very clear to me.
I abandoned myself at a very young age. I had a working mind, body, arms, legs, heart. I did not have one physical ailment except for my thinking, and I did not know this back then. Not one disability except cleary, my thinking. And I abandoned myself. I thought I was a body. I Put myself on the curb for garbage day. I was the dented can on the shelf at the grocery store that everyone put back because it was "damaged goods".
I abandoned myself at a very young age. I took the way people behaved very personally. I made sense out of people, places and things by blaming myself. If it was my fault, then I could fix it. And when I couldn't fix it or get it right, I left myself high and dry.
I stopped believing in people. I stopped believing in myself. I stopped listening to myself, trusting myself. I was desperate for love, approval and appreciation from anywhere I could find it. Never inside of me though.. my love, appreciation and approval for myself was not enough. I needed yours and when I failed to get it... adios Estefania. Left myself flat.
It has taken me my whole life up until this point and continuing on... to listen to myself again. Trust myself again. Respect and honor myself again. I am still smack dab in the middle of the process of allowing myself to have myself again. My very own space to take up in this world.
Food helped me cope. I use to see food as the enemy, now I see that it was a gift I was giving to myself. It's all I had, all I knew, the only way I could find to create pleasure in this dark mind of mine. It was a perfect double edged sword. I could punish myself for not being enough, not getting it right and at the same time have enormous amounts of tasty pleasure. It was the perfect solution. But anything outside of myself will eventually fail me, food included. Anything "out there" is sure to let me down in one way or another. Anything less than me approving of me and comforting me is a set up for devastation. The sun sets. The tsunami's come. The snow melts as does the ice. Cars crash, things fall, I drop things all the time. Metal turns to rust, houses burn and paper ruins very easily. Animals bite, children lie and are sometimes mean. The body drops, loved ones die. Anything outside of me is destined to go.
So who am I if not this flesh? Who is it that I trust again, listen to, love and respect? Who, what, where, when? Who? It must go beyond the body, beyond the flesh.... I must be listening to someTHING beyond the body. For Christ' sake, I can't even see "myself" right now. I see fingers typing on a keyboard, I see a couple of things that I have been told are legs. But.. I can't see me.. I can't see me... Who am I .. a face? Is it my face that is me? What do I relate to in you when I look at you? Is it your mouth? Your eyes? I just don't know. I do know it must goes beyond this flesh though. How do I know this? Because I trust me again, and I just know.
I received an email this morning that broke my heart open. It reminds me of this endless inquiry I seem to be swimming in every moment. It's an email about exceeding this flesh... Goodness and love prevailing... read on and get some tissue before you start....
-At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection.
Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.
Where is the natural order of things in my son?' The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.... Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact...
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base..
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'. Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day! -
I found me in Shay today.. the hero winning the game... doing my very best for my team called humanity. I found me in the father having the courage to ask for grace even when it seemed impossible the answer would be yes. Asking even in the face of knowing it's probable I will hear a no.. and then I don't, I hear a yes.
I found me in the young boys playing baseball. Amidst the realization that winning isn't a number, winning is finding the generosity in my heart. A whole new perspective of winning... making sure someone who has never one wins... and then I win. I win when I allow you to win. When it is grand that we aren't competing, we are holding one another. There is no losing when I listen and trust my heart.
I found me in the Mother who awaited with open arms for her little hero to come home. Awaiting patiently for the homecoming. Waiting, breathing, waiting, breathing, waiting...
... until finally I realize I won in spite of my disabilities. Because of my disabilities.. wow, they weren't disabilities at all. How could they be disabilities when everyone won because of them? How could I ever call them disabilities again? The Mother .. who is me.. embracing the child ... who is me...
May you have a Shay day...
I love you.
Steph
I abandoned myself at a very young age. I had a working mind, body, arms, legs, heart. I did not have one physical ailment except for my thinking, and I did not know this back then. Not one disability except cleary, my thinking. And I abandoned myself. I thought I was a body. I Put myself on the curb for garbage day. I was the dented can on the shelf at the grocery store that everyone put back because it was "damaged goods".
I abandoned myself at a very young age. I took the way people behaved very personally. I made sense out of people, places and things by blaming myself. If it was my fault, then I could fix it. And when I couldn't fix it or get it right, I left myself high and dry.
I stopped believing in people. I stopped believing in myself. I stopped listening to myself, trusting myself. I was desperate for love, approval and appreciation from anywhere I could find it. Never inside of me though.. my love, appreciation and approval for myself was not enough. I needed yours and when I failed to get it... adios Estefania. Left myself flat.
It has taken me my whole life up until this point and continuing on... to listen to myself again. Trust myself again. Respect and honor myself again. I am still smack dab in the middle of the process of allowing myself to have myself again. My very own space to take up in this world.
Food helped me cope. I use to see food as the enemy, now I see that it was a gift I was giving to myself. It's all I had, all I knew, the only way I could find to create pleasure in this dark mind of mine. It was a perfect double edged sword. I could punish myself for not being enough, not getting it right and at the same time have enormous amounts of tasty pleasure. It was the perfect solution. But anything outside of myself will eventually fail me, food included. Anything "out there" is sure to let me down in one way or another. Anything less than me approving of me and comforting me is a set up for devastation. The sun sets. The tsunami's come. The snow melts as does the ice. Cars crash, things fall, I drop things all the time. Metal turns to rust, houses burn and paper ruins very easily. Animals bite, children lie and are sometimes mean. The body drops, loved ones die. Anything outside of me is destined to go.
So who am I if not this flesh? Who is it that I trust again, listen to, love and respect? Who, what, where, when? Who? It must go beyond the body, beyond the flesh.... I must be listening to someTHING beyond the body. For Christ' sake, I can't even see "myself" right now. I see fingers typing on a keyboard, I see a couple of things that I have been told are legs. But.. I can't see me.. I can't see me... Who am I .. a face? Is it my face that is me? What do I relate to in you when I look at you? Is it your mouth? Your eyes? I just don't know. I do know it must goes beyond this flesh though. How do I know this? Because I trust me again, and I just know.
I received an email this morning that broke my heart open. It reminds me of this endless inquiry I seem to be swimming in every moment. It's an email about exceeding this flesh... Goodness and love prevailing... read on and get some tissue before you start....
-At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection.
Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.
Where is the natural order of things in my son?' The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.... Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact...
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base..
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'. Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day! -
I found me in Shay today.. the hero winning the game... doing my very best for my team called humanity. I found me in the father having the courage to ask for grace even when it seemed impossible the answer would be yes. Asking even in the face of knowing it's probable I will hear a no.. and then I don't, I hear a yes.
I found me in the young boys playing baseball. Amidst the realization that winning isn't a number, winning is finding the generosity in my heart. A whole new perspective of winning... making sure someone who has never one wins... and then I win. I win when I allow you to win. When it is grand that we aren't competing, we are holding one another. There is no losing when I listen and trust my heart.
I found me in the Mother who awaited with open arms for her little hero to come home. Awaiting patiently for the homecoming. Waiting, breathing, waiting, breathing, waiting...
... until finally I realize I won in spite of my disabilities. Because of my disabilities.. wow, they weren't disabilities at all. How could they be disabilities when everyone won because of them? How could I ever call them disabilities again? The Mother .. who is me.. embracing the child ... who is me...
May you have a Shay day...
I love you.
Steph
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