Posts Tagged ‘high anxiety’

It’s Father’s Day and I’d like to start this post by wishing all father’s reading this blog, a very happy one!  But my post will not be about Father’s Day.  Almost every blog I follow is doing a tribute to the men in their lives and while well-deserved indeed, I’ve decided to write about the one thing that seems to be occupying my thoughts these days, from sun up to sundown; my daughter in Greece (aka, separation anxiety). 

Last week’s post told the story; this week’s post will be stealing the wisdom of my oldest sister (although she will deny this fact and solemnly swear that my middle sister is the oldest!).  It’s the ‘Bubble Theory’ that she frequently speaks of when anyone in the family is worried or concerned about a loved one.

I miss my daughter, I really do, but more than that, I worry about her safety; the decisions she makes without my consultation; riding on big Greek horses that live more in a herd than in a stable, getting lost on the trails that still baffle her . . . .  What’s a parent to do about the daily worry that consumes them?  How do you NOT break out into a cold sweat when you put your little one on the bus for the first time? When they go for their first solo car ride or on an airplane alone to visit aunt Suzy?  When they go on their first date?  This part of the parental journey was not in any of the books on MY night table; or maybe it was but I certainly didn’t process it.  I probably read it and nodded my head as though I could relate, but those bonds are so strong that ‘there ain’t no relatin” until you’re a parent that has sent their baby off without them.

When my children were little, I used to ask parents of older children, “Does it get easier?”  The fairly standard response was, “It gets different.” At the time, that seemed like a cop-out answer, but having been there, it is exactly accurate; it gets different.  I mean, I no longer worry about them getting out of my sight in the supermarket (actually, I can’t even get them to the supermarket!), but now I worry about the choices they make that have no previous experience to warrant making those choices. 

My daughter; Greece; “Put her in a bubble” my sister would tell me and it simply refers to visualizing them in a bubble cocoon.  I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but something happens in the instant you make a decision to ‘bubbleize’ someone.  That decision calls forth something out of nowhere to wrap your loved ones in; a protective, invisible-like shield, keeping them safe in a crazy world.  “How can it work?” you might ask.  “It only makes YOU feel better but it can’t really protect them.” You might add.  I say it does work.  If you believe in The Law of Attraction, then you have to believe that we give a powerful vibration to ANY thoughts rolling around in our head.  When we worry, we only ADD to the negative possibility.  When we surrender it to ‘the bubble’, we’ve demonstrated our faith that ‘she will be fine; she is protected.’ Those thoughts are way more powerful and will bring about a way more desired result than worry.

Does this mean that nothing bad can happen to my daughter in Greece?  Of course not, but I’m taking no chances.  The bubble has proven itself over and over to my family and I believe it.  A strong belief in anything that your heart desires is the key to attainment. But be realistic.  Case in point: The lottery hasn’t worked for me yet . . . of course, I really don’t believe that I can win; the odds are so stacked against it.  For now, I’ll just believe that my daughter is fine in Greece in her protective bubble. I should probably also go check my husband’s lottery ticket . . . . HE believes we can win.

In love and light,



Photo credit goes to: FreeDigitalPhotos.net



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Okay, so she’s not so little, but she is to me.  I still see her as a little blue-eyed baby with her thumb in her mouth, terrified of everything.  My daughter had fears; lots of them when growing up.  Without question, she was the inspiration for the second book (Sink or Swim) in The Grand Master/Little Master Series, addressing childhood fears and a new way to move through them.  I needed a new set of tools for her and I couldn’t find anything on the bookshelf that went to a metaphysical level, so I created one.  “Did it work”? I’m frequently asked about the series I wrote over a decade ago.  “What is she like now that’s she’s 21?”

It’s been a rough three days for her father and I; we put Haley on a plane for Greece last Thursday.  Several months ago she applied for a two month internship at White Pegasus Ranch in the mountains of Papigo, Greece; one which she thought she would never get, but decided to give it a shot . . .

My daughter has never traveled abroad alone; the ugly face of fear reared its head a few days before her departure.  We knew it would, we discussed it in depth many weeks prior; we knew she would get there and want to come home, back to the things that give her comfort; her room, her ‘stuff’.  Having traveled to LA five years ago for three weeks to visit friends, we almost brought her home early due to her high anxiety level, loss of appetite, etc.  Haley battles mild depression, is a bit of a recluse, hates ‘change’ and requires an abnormal amount of sleep for a girl her age.  Still, this opportunity was too exciting to turn down and she wanted it, a lot.

We decided that Skype would be the communication of choice; regular calls cost almost $2.00 per minute and texting is cheaper, but hard to do more than a few words in a text.  But there’s the seven hour time difference, making even Skype tough to coordinate.  Communication will be difficult.

Friday and Saturday I got a few random texts; “I wish this wasn’t so hard . . . “I’m feeling like I want to come home” . . . Ugh.  If you’re a parent, you know that there’s nothing worse than when your child is struggling, especially when they’re too far away to give  a big hug.  Just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

We connected this morning on Skype.  She was outside because it’s the only place that she can get an Internet connection.  The background scenery looked beautiful, and I commented on how she too looked beautiful. “Beautiful?” She laughed.  “I have no makeup on and my hair is wet, I look terrible!”  But she did look beautiful, changed already somehow. 

We briefly discussed the camping trip she just returned from with the horses, the animals that she shares the mountains with, the gorgeous herd of horses that she will be caring for and leading trail rides through the mountains.  She shared that she didn’t anticipate having ANY fears on the back of a horse, but riding down the mountain ledge and the thought of one slip of the horse’s foot brought up her fear of height, in a big way. 

The highlight of our Skype conversation was a woman sitting next to her at the table outside.  She poked her head in front of the camera and said, “Hi mom and dad!”  She spoke directly to me in a British accent: “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. From one mother to another, let me tell you to relax; your daughter is in very capable, supportive hands.  She’s in the most beautiful place you can imagine, and no matter what she’s going through right now, she will find herself here; she will return a different woman.”  She waved and disappeared from view.  Haley smiled gratefully at her, as though she knew she spoke the truth.  

I wonder if that mother had any idea of the gift she gave me this morning . . .  I suspect she did.  Regardless, my little baby is in Greece on a life- changing adventure, attracting to her all the things that she needs to grow in to a strong, able woman.  My world was upside down for two days.  My daughter was the first thing on my mind when I woke up and the last before I’d finally drift off to sleep.  It’s good to be seeing things clearly again; able to relax and know that this is her journey and she will be just fine.

Is it working?” you might ask.  I can confirm that yes, indeed it is.  My little girl might always have her fears, but they will not have her.  I am watching my little blue-eyed baby conquer her fears and anxieties courageously. In many ways, it’s harder for her than a child ‘not’ battling depression.  I’m watching her go after her dreams, not letting fear rip her off from all that life has to offer.  She is my inspiration and my hero and words cannot express how proud I am of her.

 In love and light,

Patricia Merker


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