I was thinking how strange it was to not be hearing the wandering caw of the seagulls, like the organic white noise on this perfect stretch of beach had just been turned off, when the sand shifted beneath my feet. It didn’t just move under my weight; it seemed to move on its own, moving me along with it. Then the rumbling started. I knew I was alone but I jerked my head right then left looking for someone, for a sign that the panic I felt was justified. Instinctively, I took a few slow steps backwards and locked my eyes on the horizonal line between sea and sky ahead of me. The uneven ground prevented me from seeing what I was looking for but hoping not to, so I just stopped and stared, not believing. I could only hear my own breath now. Shit, it was rising. The whole of the ocean was rising. Divorced from reality, I just watched for a moment as the tidal wave grew in front of me. By the time sense retook control and turned my body to run the roar and the mountain of water was upon me. It was as though I was in slow motion, but it didn’t matter anyway. I was going to be overtaken by this goliath expression of pure energy. Then I felt someone next to me.
“Babe, you’ve got to wake up. I need to get in the shower and get ready for work.”
And so the day begins. It is still dark out, but I am ready. I wake from my cataclysmic dream to the voice of my favorite person on the planet and soon am greeted by my two favorite little people. I feel peaceful and strong and happy. Then the day really begins.
Before I get the dog fed I explain to Bug what is and is not an appropriate use for a tiara. Next comes a semi-successful trip to the potty for Lemon. Once she and the floor and a book nearby are all cleaned off I brew the coffee. Sort of. Actually, I brew dirty brown water through the grounds from yesterday that I had forgotten to throw away. The girls race into the kitchen just as I discover my error and they begin to whine in perfect disharmony for different kinds of cereal. Lemon wants flakes, which I pour. Bug says she wants crispy rice, which I pour and top with rice milk. Lemon changes her mind; she wants crispy rice, too. ‘K…no problem. Poured, milked, delivered. Then the screaming. Bug wanted flakes, she says. Lemon wanted it dry, she says.
“Bug, you said you wanted crispies.”
“NOOOOOOO – I WANTED FLAKES!!!!”
“Bug, I listen to your words. You said you wanted crispies. You need to eat what you ask for.”
“I WON’T EAT IT!!!!”
“(something in 2 year old scream/whine) MILK!!!”
“Bug, that’s not how you talk to daddy. You need to eat your breakfast that you asked for. Lemon, use your words, please.”
In unison, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Awesome. It’s still dark outside. I wish I was back on that beach. In a sense, I am.
Energy is a powerful thing. It, more than probably anything else in this world, is shared. Hell, all we are is energy condensed to a slow enough vibration to hold our current form. It is constantly transferred back and forth between us. It drives us, swirls around us and, not just influences our movements and emotions, but dictates them. It is our movements. It is our emotions. If energy is all we are then our actions, thoughts and communications are merely expressions of that energy and, thus, become everyone that is around us as well. Now, if you are in a negative space then that is what you are sharing.
Of course, it is possible to harness and guide your energy, but that takes consciousness, intention and years of practice. Think about it – how many people do you know that truly are in control of their energy all of the time? Someone who never gets angry, impatient or frustrated? No one wants to feel that way, so those examples are inherently losses of control.
Those who are emotionally very close to you share the most energy with you. The people you love the most affect you the most. Very sincerely, we absorb their energy and make it our own. As my daughters sat at Dante’s Breakfast Table, they showered me with their negative energy. Regardless of the catalyst that drove them to that place, they can’t be held accountable – they are two and three years old, for cryin’ out loud. It is my place as their father to recognize where they are energetically, stop it from becoming me and transfer peacefulness back to them. I have to be the one to control my energy because they can’t. While they are in that chaotic, negative space their problems can’t be solved. Similarly, if I go to that space then their problems will only intensify.
I’m working on it.
I’m not saying I need to give in to their thunderous demands or irrationality in order to achieve a peaceful house. Far from it. What I am saying is that the root of it all is energy, both theirs and mine. Our vibrations constantly intertwine and that must be recognized. We are all perpetual tidal waves. We all wash over each other constantly and the closer we are, both emotionally and physically, the more inundated we become by that energy.
My daughters’ waves are going to reach me and I must know how to be strong. My wave is going to reach them. What will my wave be?