The Eyes of My Daughter

On this eve of a powerful lunar eclipse on the Virgo/Pisces axis, combined with my daughter’s approaching 14th birthday this Sunday, I was struck last night by some overwhelming emotions from the past. It always surprises me how powerful the past can be when it rises up for processing, especially because I so often think I have long since buried and “let go” of it. What might be more accurate to say is that it is easy to forget yet we have powerful subconscious minds that hold onto information until just the right time to process it.

Eclipses always signal change and typically changes that occurs at great speed, almost in the absence of actual time. I like to refer to Eclipses as astrological worm-holes; where two unique spaces open, each one on the opposite end of the “string of” time. One end of the string represents where you are in this moment, the other end of the string represents a thought of where you’d like to be. When the Eclipse occurs, it’s like the string ends collapse into each other, bringing the two ends together in a flash so that the thing you thought would take some time to accomplish is suddenly on your doorstep. Like a great surprise from the Universal stork, you have given birth to something new and like the birth process, it’s not always easy or as effortless as the words flowing through my laptop keyboard are now.

The Virgo/Pisces axis is all about balancing the mental and physical energies of Virgo with the sensitive and intuitive energies of Pisces where we are reminded we are spiritual beings having a human experience and that we get to have faith in and surrender to the magic of our more powerful spirit-selves. 1Virgo teaches us the importance of keeping our body healthy and our mind clear so that body/mind integration is possible. The more our body/mind is aligned with Spirit, the more we can direct our lives from intuitive/instinctual knowing. The Pisces/Virgo polarity emphasizes the need to make the connection between matter/body and spirit/non-physical realities conscious. Expanding our awareness of the interconnection between finite and infinite is our goal.

So yesterday, I took my second and more serious look at incorporating the body/mind practice of Yoga into my life. That would be Virgo’s influence. And last night, as I lay in bed after spending the afternoon with my daughter and girlfriend in Hollywood at the Pantages enjoying the theatrical production of “Wicked,” memories of what it really felt like living alone for a week in the structure that had been my home for several years, filled with love, laughter, and a lot of life flooded my mind. It was 1984 and at that time, I waited patiently for my biological father to return from his two-week Australian vacation to become a full-time dad for the first time ever. My brother had been shipped up to Southern Oregon to live with my mother’s sister. My step father had moved in with his brother in San Clemente, all according to my mother’s wishes to dissolve our family structure in order to pursue something else for her life. To this day I am not quite clear what that ‘something else’ was, I only know that this then 15-year old was alone in a big empty house with the exception of my bedroom furniture and some other personal belongings. Where these memories came from I’m not exactly sure. As I said earlier, I thought I had processed this a long time ago. Yet it was clear my subconscious had another perspective on what “processing” was as uncontrollable sobbing flooded into my pillow. This is Pisces influences and as I write this, I cannot help but be present to one of the keywords of Pisces which is “undoing.” I remember a schoolmate’s Mother finding out I was alone and insisting that I come down the street and stay a few days until my father arrived to fetch me. I also remember this particular mom not being exactly “all there,” I mean, she was doing the best she could with the tools and skills she had at the time. Yet, no matter how “off” she might have been, there was a part of her that was not comfortable knowing I was up the street, alone and abandoned, in the shell of what used to be my home.

As I processed the emotions I was feeling, I kept going back to my own daughter and her innocence. She is a year away from the anniversary of an event in my own that life that has forever changed me. There are parts of me that are frightened to know what it is that could possibly occur in a mother’s life that would cause her to leave a life, her children. I guess I don’t really want to know. It terrifies me to know that what existed in my mother may exist within me because, like many adult children realize, we become more like are our same-sex parent than we’d like to sometimes admit. Yet, what I realize is that I can choose to live in terror, fearing what might happen within me, or even within my daughter, a year from now or I can choose to anchor back into my present moment, where I have been reminded in recent weeks, that there is no pain. I can then also see the gift that the reflection of my daughter’s eyes offer to me and that is the gift of seeing my self in her and instead of crying for her lost innocence, I can mourn my own through this beautiful healing opportunity she is offering to me. When I think about it all from this perspective, it actually pulls me into my daughter, into our connection and supports me in honoring our bond even more deeply than I have done up until this moment.

Ultimately, at even a broader perspective, this is the gift each of us offer one another, in every single moment we connect with another human being. We reflect back to each other our humanity, our divinity, our innocence. All of this awareness, from an eclipse and the reflection I see in my daughter’s eyes.

1Austin, Stephanie, “Pisces Lunar Eclipse,” and “Virgo Solar Eclipse,” The Mountain Astrologer, Issue #134, August/September 2007, p. 104-6.


One thought on “The Eyes of My Daughter

  1. I was powerfully struck by this example of remembering — nearly reliving — events from the past, thanks to our children.A good friend and intuitive coach recently told me that as our children grow, we “get to” re-experience the events from our own lives when we were that age. It’s a wonderful opportunity for processing and conscious growth, but at the same time it can be scary as hell to re-birth those nearly overwhelming feelings.(I love the metaphor of the eclipse as a worm-hole — to extend it a little, I think the statement from my intuitive friend means that there’s a mini-wormhole between our children and our past selves.)I’ll give you two examples from my own life (my oldest daughter is now 6, and ever since her birth I have been processing powerful emotions from my earliest childhood):Example 1: Just after she was born, I experienced fairly severe postpartum depression, and while there were certainly a lot of factors that led to my emotional state, one big one was the unprocessed grief that came from the knowledge that my birth disappointed my parents — particularly my father — because they had hoped for a boy. For years I had thought I was “over it” thanks to therapy, good friends, and lots of perspective. Yet giving birth to a baby girl brought it all up again. I realized that one of the most powerful steps I could take to heal myself was to love my daughter the way I yearned to be loved as a child — unconditionally. Every day I get to practice that.Example 2: My daughter started first grade 3 weeks ago, and has been the subject of quite a bit of advanced testing (she’s reading at a 6th grade level and doing above-grade-level work in math as well). We are considering moving her to second grade, and have been pleased with the great conversations we’ve had with teachers and the school principal (and this is a public school! I’m ashamed to admit I’m surprised by the level of care and competence I see in the staff there, which is another story…).Watching my daughter amaze trained educational professionals brought up memories and emotions from when I was her age — I also tested off-the-charts for reading, and was immediately identified as “gifted.” Of course my parents were pleased and proud, and I’ve been a good student ever since — but I did suffer because I felt “different.” I’m a natural introvert, and it takes me a while to make new friends. My parents’ efforts to keep me challenged in school led them to move me to several different schools between grades 1 and 6, and I remember the pain of losing friends, and feeling isolated, much more than I remember the academic success.This isn’t to say my parents did the “wrong” thing. They were doing the best they could with the tools that they had, and they did want the best for me. I also want the best for my daughter, and I am awed by her self-confidence and the ease with which she makes friends and converses with adults. So she’s already better equipped to handle a change like skipping a grade than I ever was. I won’t take full credit for that, but I know that my encouragement of her and my acceptance of her have helped her become the confident girl she is. And I will support her in skipping grades, doing advanced classwork, or whatever else she needs to enjoy school.Mynde, I would like to acknowledge and honor you for your awareness of the upcoming convergence (of your daughter’s current age and your age when your mother left). You have made a choice to live consciously, in the present moment, and claim your power as a co-creator of your reality. And that’s the most powerful positive example you could possibly give to your daughter.It’s possible that you may re-experience the abandonment, but this time take the opportunity to heal your present self, heal your past self, and love your daughter the way you yearned to be loved. You might even experience a form of abandonment in reverse, as your teenage daughter grows up and away from you — but this too is a reminder that all growth involves change. Being able to let go, over time, of the girl your daughter was means being able to welcome into your life the woman she is becoming. And what a powerful gift that is — to her and to the universe!


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