The Tomatoes that Spoiled and Repaired the Relationship

Hi!

This post is a small treasure.

When my mother first moved at the farm with dad, she was about my age now.

I remember my father at our old farm...while he was still with us. Be with those who love you in the journey called life, starting with loving yourself as they have loved you. Parents are the first to teach you that you deserve to be loved just as you came into the world! Treasure them and treasure yourselves!"

Once upon a time, in a summer, at our old farm, in my parents' yard, there was hustle and bustle with gathering tomatoes from the greenhouse and garden. We had to make the traditional tomato juice and tomato paste from the generous harvest my parents had taken care of with love and energy.

I don't know how the devil stuck its nose in that along with squeezing the tomatoes, bursts of anger, dissatisfaction, tension would spurt out: either we had to do it this way or not, otherwise, that we didn't come here to work all day on your tomatoes, etc. And it was one of our gardening customs...it still is up to this day.

And because I felt I couldn't handle it with my dad, that I didn't come all the way from my college for this, to do this, for three days that I was there, to make tomato paste, I chose to write them a letter and leave it in their room in the evening. The letter, in simple, well-crafted words, that didn't hurt (I thought), expressed my need for relaxation, rest, time spent with my family and with them, a seemingly nonviolent message, which contradicted the work they "forced" us to do (me and my sisters...at least, this is what I thought back then: that they forced us). And at the end, I had added an "I love you!" as a sweetener. (Something told me it might not turn out as I expected.) I was convinced that the message would stick to them better this way, rather than in the words that created conflict.

The next morning, no movement from their room, usually they were active, with the animals, in the yard, garden. I go in and see them like this: mom at the edge of the bed, hands fretting, dad lying on the bed, head on the pillow and hand on his temple, very sad, mute, speechless. Mom says:

Look what trouble, your father got sick, he's not recovering, he didn't sleep all night.

Why? I ask, amazed, it didn't even cross my mind that it would be about the innocent letter.

How do you not know? You left a letter! Is that how you insult us?

Only then did I understand what I had done: I showed them my superiority, putting them in a more than humiliating position, choosing to express myself in writing with them in the house, denying how important it was for them to show that I respect their work, part of their life, part of who they are, putting on a pedestal only my great need for relaxation.

To summarize, here's what's important to me (I mention a few):

🌱Working on separating past events from present ones (many of our reactions are not related to the present moment, but to unfinished business from the past). In this example, I had accumulated a lot of anger and frustration because I had worked hard since I was little and in all vacations. If I had been aware of these aspects, I could have enjoyed picking the tomatoes, the abundance of the harvest, and connecting with the family in this way.

Imagine that the tomato pulp represents the future, and the peel and seeds, the past. For a good taste of tomato juice (the taste of the present), we don't need the peel and seeds (the past), but they are essential (we consider them) because they have kept the pulp alive, healthy (we respect and honor them, we will pass them on, after separation through a sieve, to chickens, to pigs, as food).

🌱Mutual respect Superiority over parents can take various forms, from the most delicate and innocent, to the most perfidious (there is this tendency, we feel that we have surpassed our condition and we are more awesome, we know more, better than they do). When we notice it, it's good to stop and see things from their perspective.

🌱Understanding the other person's frame of reference, what's important to them, what their world is, and not fighting to impose yours.

Not only did I write to them, making them look foolish (that's how they felt, although, consciously, I didn't have this intention at all), but through my revolt of not making tomato paste anymore (we better pay someone to help you), I threw away, like rotten tomatoes (figuratively speaking), all their work of several months (from carefully selected seeds, planting the seedlings, bringing the soil with the cart from the forest, planting, etc.) and more, I devalued what they do, hard work, work from which we all have healthily nourished.

In summary of the summary, let's consider Hellinger's Laws of Love:

💚The law of belonging
💚The law of temporal order
💚The law of hierarchical order
💚The law of balance

To be in harmony with our internal system, but also with the external one, is a conscious process, of acceptance, repair, assumption, effort, and responsibility.

And the difficult, conflictual moments, which we would rather not exist, those are exactly the turning points, of growth, of maturation, if we learn to look carefully there, to extract lessons, if we give up the cold, metallic armor of rigidity, of ego, and we wrap ourselves in the delicate silk of strong love.

I don't have pictures of the tomatoes in question, but I have pictures of the holy hands that planted with love and care in the garden, but also inside me, seeds of love, of acceptance, of respect (and I will also work to take care of them until the last moment through this garden of life). Thank you Mother. Thank you Father.

Thank you for reading.

With respect,
Zpek