Emotional

Hi Rebekkamaria,

For some people, it is very difficult to really share their feelings and express themselves. When I was younger, I could express myself quite openly and did not fear showing my innermost self. I could express my thoughts and emotions freely and because of this, others felt comfortable enough to express themselves openly as well. As a matter of fact, it seemed that others really wanted to be open - to share their feelings and thoughts, to talk about their deepest fears, desires and hidden dreams. When this kind of exchange has happened, it has created some of the most incredible, beautiful and amazing experiences and has enriched my life in ways that I can't even begin to explain.

However, over the years, many things have happened in my life that have made me become much more inhibited with my emotions and have caused me to withdraw deeper into my own world. Being expressive means allowing yourself to be vulnerable to some degree because you leave your heart and soul wide open, and trusting that others will respond with the same sensitivity, understanding, compassion and empathy you express so freely. When that trust is broken repeatedly, it gets more difficult each time to recover and open up again.

The pain is simply too great.

I must close for now but will write again soon to discuss this topic. It has been very thought provoking.

Have a good day.

Amadeo

Very true, Rebekka!

When I was younger, I did the opposite of what you did. I thought that by always opening my heart to everyone, including mean people, I could somehow make them understand and feel that they were loved and valued, and that would enable them to express themselves without fear of criticism, judgement or skepticism. I found out that it doesn't always work that way.

Although I am not as open as I used to be, I still feel that the only way to really understand the complexities and value of each person and to communicate with them on a deeper level is to relate to them through compassion, acceptance and more "quiet" sense of love. "A quiet sense of love" - when words are not necessary or needed to reach that deeper level in a person's heart.

I have found that just listening to another person without judgement or criticism establishes a sense of trust which breaks down the barriers that prevent a person from expressing themselves openly and completely. The sense of trust, it seems, is the key that unlocks the closed door to the heart that has been hurt and that prevents a person from expressing themselves.

I have had two vivid examples in my life which have shown me what happens to the heart that expresses itself from the standpoint of a deep sense of love and also from the heart that expresses itself from the protective wall it has built around itself.

I have an aunt who was very hurt as a result of a devastating incident that happened early in her life. My aunt was a kind and giving person; one who laughed easily, made others feel good about themselves, helped others and was very generous with her time and resources. She expressed herself in such a way as to make people want to share with her everything they felt. People felt safe pouring out the contents of their heart to her.

However, as a result of the incident, my aunt became so guarded with her feelings and skeptical of others that at times, it seemed, she was very cold. What she felt inside could be summed up in a statement she made to me when I was a teenager.

We were having a conversation about trusting others. I told her that we trust people every day of our lives and that people were basically good.

She responded by saying, "There is an old saying that I heard when I was growing up in Italy. I never forgot it and now I am going to tell you so you don't forget it either. The saying is:

To trust is good. But not to trust is better.

Never forget this. It will save you much heartache and from making many mistakes in your life."

At the time, I could never accept any part of that statement as I felt that no one could live in this life without trust, and I told her so. She did not argue with me but I knew from the look in her eyes that she did not agree with me. She gave me a knowing look and a hug and sent me on my way. I'll never forget that conversation.

Especially when I saw what happened in her life in the years following that conversation. I feel much compassion for her.

On the other hand, my paternal grandmother was the closest thing to a saint that I would ever know in my life. She expressed herself very openly and lovingly to every person she met up with, whether she knew them or not.

You could not be in her presence without feeling a tremendous sense of love and everyone who met her and knew her instantly "fell in love" with her. It did not matter that she could not speak English. She communicated directly from her loving heart and was able to easily reach and touch the heart of each and every person she came in contact with.

I remember when I was 16 years old and was going out with some friends of mine. I told the guys that I was going to stop by my grandmother's house before we drove to a party just to see how she was doing since I hadn't seen her for a couple of weeks. My friends said okay but I could sense that they would much rather skip the quick visit and head to the party. I promised them that we would not be there for very long.

When we arrived at my grandmother's house, she stepped out on her patio and was so happy to see us. She put her arms around me and kissed my face over and over, and saying how much she loved me. When I introduced my friends to her, she took each one in her arms, touched their faces and also kissed each one as if they were her own. She told them how beautiful they were and that she loved them and how happy she was to see them. (I translated everything she said to them.)

I looked at the expressions on my friends' faces and I laughed to myself. Each one of those boys hugged my grandmother and I could see from the look in their eyes that they too had "fallen in love" with her.

When she told us to come into the kitchen and sit down at the table to eat, each one of us were only too happy to comply. My grandmother was always cooking something wonderful.

As a side note: my grandmother was told by her doctor that she could not eat certain foods anymore, especially anything with salt. Even though my grandmother could not eat many of the delicious meals she cooked, she never stopped making them because she said others could enjoy them. As a matter of fact, she was making one of her most delicious soups when we stopped by. I asked her if she was expecting someone to visit and she said 'no'.

"But," she said, "now I am so happy that I did make pasta e fagioli (pasta and bean soup) because you and your friends could sit down and eat something before you go out.

When we finished eating, she gave us some fruit to eat and then I told her we had to leave because we were going to a party. She put extra fruit in a plastic bag for us so we could have some in case we got hungry.

I hugged her and thanked her for everything which started another round of hugs and kisses. When it came time for my friends to say goodbye, they hugged and kissed her and thanked her for the meal. I chuckled to myself because it took so long for them to say goodbye to my grandmother and were very reluctant to leave her. She told them to come back anytime they wanted. She said she would have lunch or dinner ready whenever they came to visit.

When we got into my car, my friends were all very quiet.

Then one of my friends said, "Next time we go to the city, can we stop by your grandmother's house again?"

That's just one example of an encounter with my grandmother. Experiences like this were very common with my grandmother because she expressed herself so completely and with so much love. As a result, others opened up in ways that surprised themselves. Even a language barrier could not stop the heartfelt and deeply moving exchanges that happened in every instance.

I have given two examples of people who express their feelings according to whatever they have in their hearts.

Each of us is different and unique in how we express our feelings and thoughts.

And each of us is special and precious.

Thank you, Rebekkamaria, for posting such a thought provoking and moving post. It has brought back many special memories to me.

I apologize for such a long post but once I started, I didn't know when to stop. Thank you for your patience.

Many blessings to you.

Amadeo

Hi again Rebekka...

What a very busy week it has been! Today is Canada Day and it looks as if it is going to be another hectic day. The nice part is that people are in such a wonderful mood that, even though it is so busy at work, it makes for some very pleasant experiences. Today was supposed to be my day off but I will be going to work this afternoon to help out the gang at work.

Thank you for the beautiful post and for the heartfelt comments about my grandmother. My grandmother passed away in 1983 and I still miss her very much. After she passed away, the pain of losing her was terrible, not only for me but for everyone who knew her. She was so dearly loved. For nearly 10 years after she died, I could not say her name or talk about her without breaking into tears. That's how much of an impact she had in my life.

You said the following in your post:

When I read the entire post and the words in bold letters in particular, it reminded me of an incident that happened to my grandmother which upset some of the family who became concerned for her.

My grandmother lived in Eagle Rock, which is very close to Los Angeles. Her home was not too far away from the main street which had numerous bars and nightclubs. Every night, people leaving the bars very late and very drunk would walk by her house on their way home.

One early morning, my grandmother walked outside her house to find a man passed out on her lawn. She went to him and gently tried to "wake him" but he was out cold. She went back into her house and made him something hot to drink and warmed up some of the soup she had made and brought it to him. She sat down on the grass beside him and lifted his head. She spoke quietly to him and finally, he started to come to. She put the cup of coffee or hot chocolate to his lips and let him have small sips. He was now fully conscious so she started feeding him some of the soup she made.

He remained lying on the ground in her arms while eating and drinking. When he was finished, he slowly rose to a sitting position and tried talking to her. She only spoke Italian but she did say to him in very broken English, "Everything good now. Everything good."

He stood up and thanked my grandmother for helping him, and he went his way, no doubt feeling much better physically as well as mentally and emotionally. Apparently, he was a rough looking guy - unshaven, unruly hair, lots of tatooes, scars on his face and arms, etc. My grandmother didn't see that in him. She said he walked away, smiling and waving at her, and looking very happy.

Some of my aunts and uncles who heard about this incident from my aunt (my grandmother lived across from one of my aunts) were very upset and concerned about my grandmother helping this man. They said he could have beaten and robbed her or worse. They reprimanded her and told her to never go near 'these people' again.

My grandmother told them that he was somebody's son, and that if one of her sons were ever in trouble, she would want someone to show kindness and help her son as she helped this man. Furthermore, she said, if she ever sees someone passing by her house or passed out on her grass again, needing help, she would not hesitate to help anyway she can. This news did not make my aunts and uncles very happy but they knew when she said something, she meant it and there was nothing you could do to change her. That's the way she is.

I was very moved by the experience you had with the man on the park bench. You have a very good and gentle heart, and the way you responded to this man and reaching out to him was very loving. It not only blessed him but the exchange blessed you as well. You are very much like my grandmother - very soft hearted, unselfish, giving and compassionate.

The experience you had with this man reminded me of the time I was in Vancouver, BC. My stepson was living there and I was trying to find him but he had no phone so I went to his apartment to see if he was home.
He lived in a rough area in Vancouver but he wanted to live there despite members of the family trying to convince him to move into a nicer area or closer to family. He chose to remain in that area.

When I got to his apartment, he was not home but there was a woman standing close by watching me. I asked her if she knew my stepson. She said yes. I then asked if she knew where he was and she said she did not know but that he would probably be back soon. I thanked her and was going to go to my car to wait for a while but then I stopped and looked at the woman again.

She was a little taller than average, thin, with light brown hair hanging loosely on her shoulders. She had brown eyes that were sharp and penetrating, as if she could see right through you. She appeared to read me like a book. The tone of her voice was very skeptical and guarded, and had a slightly low gravel sound. She was attractive but appeared to have endured many painful things in her life. I guessed she was in her 40's.

She wore very tight dark pants and a low cut shirt and black high heeled shoes on her feet. Her arms were folded as she leaned against the wall studying me from head to toe.

I started to tell her about my stepson, that I needed to talk to him but he didn't have a phone and that was why I was there. She listened quietly, still leaning against the wall. She finally spoke up and told me that she and my stepson were friends, and that she too was waiting for him.

There was a coffee shop next to the apartment building so I asked if she wanted to sit down with me and have a coffee. She accepted.

As we sat down in the coffee shop, she told me her name was Cookie. She had lived in this area of Vancouver for about 5 years and knew just about everyone in the area.

I asked if she had family here and she said not in this area. She said she had 2 children and was divorced from her husband. She hasn't seen any of them for about 3 years.

She started telling me that she grew up as an only child in a very happy home. She was extremely close to her mother and father, whom she loved very dearly. She went to school and did well. When she finished school, she met and married her husband. They bought a beautiful house and afterwards had two children. She said her life was so wonderful and beautiful. She felt very blessed.

Then tragedy struck. Her father died quite suddenly and about 3 or 4 months later, her mother died also. She was completely devastated and overwhelmed with grief. Little by little, her grief ate away at her until her relationship with her husband deteriorated. She could not eat or sleep and could not properly care for her home and children because of the deep depression that she experienced.

She eventually lost everything - her marriage, children and home - and ended up on the streets of Vancouver where she became a prostitute.

She said it is a hard life but that she was one of the lucky ones because she was not on drugs and did not have to depend on a pimp for her survival, like most of the other girls did. She started looking after some of the girls that got into trouble or needed help. Those girls came to her with every kind of problem imagineable - homelessness, injuries, food shortage, sickness, protection, advice, family problems, pregnancy, and the list went on.

We talked for quite a long time until she said she had to get going. I thanked her for speaking to me and that she gave me much food for thought. I also thanked her for being open with me and opening my eyes to so many things. Even in the midst of hell, love still triumphs.

Before she left, she turned around and looked me right in the eyes and said, "You know something? When I die and meet my Maker, I know He has a special place for me. He has a beautiful spot for me under a palm tree, next to an amazingly beautiful pond, under the blue sky with angels feeding me grapes and sipping on delicious nectar. He and I both know that I deserve it."

And so she does.... I do hope that one day, Cookie finds or has found her paradise.

Thank you Rebekkamaria for a very moving post. It is very refreshing to be able to talk about these memories again and experience the deep feelings of love they bring out which have been buried for quite some time.

Take care,

Amadeo