Filed under: Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, Happiness and Joy, Health and Fitness, Psychobabble, Spirituality, weight loss
I’m five weeks into the year, and I’m still not losing weight. I should probably care more about that than I do. The thing is, though, that I know I’m doing everything right. I’ve struggled for years to make that the important thing, but I’ve never been able to succeed. Now, when I really have a goal and want to reach it – 50 pounds in a year – somehow I can’t focus my energy or emotional dependency upon the scale. I just…don’t seem to care so much about it. (The written word cannot adequately convey how completely out of character this is for me.)
What I do care about, is making some serious changes to my life. Physical therapy is proving to be a Godsend. It’s hard – much harder than I thought it would be – but I’ve discovered so many physical issues that I didn’t realize I had, and that were contributing to the severity of the ones I did know about. The translation of that is that the problems I can’t fix – the arthritis and the fibromyalgia – are not as severe as I’d thought, and that the issues making everything so bad are ones I can address. That’s an awfully good feeling.
I’ve also really been awakened to the difference that being gluten-free makes in my life. I think it’s very easy to think that something isn’t helping, when it’s been a while since you experienced the difference. I originally went gluten-free a little over a year ago, when my rheumatologist told me that a lot of his arthritis patients experience some relief from doing so. He said he didn’t think it was necessary to actually test for celiac disease, because it was easier to just try the diet and see if it worked; he also said that a number of his patients who tested negative for celiac still experienced relief from the diet. It is possible to be celiac-negative and still be gluten-sensitive or gluten-intolerant. So I gave it a shot, and I was surprised at how much relief I felt. Not only from the arthritis and associated pain, but from the depression and mental fogginess I’d been experiencing, as well as fatigue and general malaise. I did a lot of research at the time and was surprised at what I’d found.
But over the course of a year, I lapsed. The gluten-free lifestyle is not easy. Our culture is not friendly to it. There is not a day that goes by without having to actively concentrate on maintaining it, and until recently, Oklahoma City has not had a plethora of retailers who are cognizant of the demand for gluten-free products. The rest of my family is not gluten-free, nor are any of my co-workers or friends. Under those circumstances, it’s easy to forget how bad you were before, and when you gradually slide back into old habits, it’s unfortunately easy to not associate a return of symptoms with those habits. I’d fallen into the trap of only thinking in terms of gastrointestinal reactions to gluten, when the truth is that, while those are dreadful, they are really the least of my gluten-associated problems. It wasn’t until I decided to get clean again that I was reminded of what a difference it makes – and it was an immediate difference. Within a week, my pain was cut probably in half and my mental outlook was…well, it was like I was a different person.
So between physical therapy and eating clean, I know I’m making a huge difference in my life. My next step, and the piece of the puzzle that I know is still missing, is to step up my exercise. I haven’t been doing a lot, for a couple of reasons: primarily, I wanted to get into a routine with physical therapy, see how it was going to affect me, and then build an exercise routine that I can do without ill effects. I think I’m ready to do that now; now, my obstacle is my schedule. The Ninja Princess has had to change taekwondo schools (possibly temporarily; we should know tomorrow night), and the new one is considerably farther away. Worse, where her old school is next door to the Y, the new one is…not. The Y in that area isn’t nearly as convenient. So I’m waiting to see if the change is permanent before creating a whole new workout schedule for myself and my husband. It’s a total change in evening routine. Meanwhile, though, we have been doing a lot of walking. While it’s probably not brisk enough to be much of a fat-burner, it’s keeping me active and mobile and in the habit of exercise. Also, the PT postural and core exercises are pretty intense, actually, so at least I know I’m getting some good arm, upper-body and core exercise.
Another change I’ve been making is actively working on my sleep habits and my emotional and spiritual self-care. With the help of Aetna’s web-based programs, I’m working toward repairing my sleep deficit and tendency to insomnia, as well as actively working to improve stress management and reduce my negative thought patterns. This is another thing that cannot be overemphasized in terms of its importance in a healthy, happy lifestyle. I’ve fallen into some really bad, old mental habits over the past year and a half, and it’s time to start digging back out of that hole. Right now, I’m doing it on my own, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility of involving a professional. Therapy, in all its forms, can be incredibly beneficial.
In short, while I’m not seeing a lot of results, I feel pretty good about the changes I’m making. I’ll admit that I’m a little bummed about the lack of cooperation on the part of the scale, but at the end of the day, if I don’t lose a single pound this year, but I keep these new habits, I’ve still made a difference in my life. And I guess that’s the most important thing of all.
Filed under: Happiness and Joy, Life Lessons, Psychobabble, Random thoughts
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness, and where it comes from, at least in my own life.
It started with one of those stupid MySpace surveys – the ones that are all so similar but somehow trigger my OCD just enough that I can’t keep from posting them anyway. One of the questions nearly always is, “If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?” Now, being way too introspective for my own good, I always give these questions serious thought, and when I get to that one, my answer is always, “Nothing. Because everything happens for a reason and everything that has happened has led me here, and I am happy with where I am.”
Which begs the question of why I am so happy where I am? What is it about my life that makes me so unwilling to change any of it?
I’m not young, rich, gorgeous, or privileged. I’m not a social butterfly. I don’t have everything I want, though I do have everything I need. So what is there about my life that is so perfect, that I wouldn’t want to change it?
Here’s what I’ve come up with:
I am not young…but I am still in the best years of my life. I am so much more confident and happy in my own skin than I was when I was young. I don’t obsess over whether people like me anymore, or whether I have made someone angry at me. I am in touch with my inner bitch, as well as my inner goddess, and I am okay with people being responsible for their own emotions. If they don’t like me…not really my problem. If they do…great, but that’s not the centerpiece of my world.
I’m not gorgeous – but I am not unattractive either.
I’m not rich, God knows – but I have learned so much about the value of money – and what value it doesn’t have. I have learned that being able to buy whatever you want is nowhere near as freeing and joyful as knowing that you are in complete accord with the one you love, and that there are no secrets or omissions between you. Money is important, and it’s so important to be financially stable – but money is not ever going to make me happy. Love, family, and an honest, self-responsible life are.
And that’s the center of it, really. Because I am so blessed. I have a husband whom I love, more than I ever even knew. He loves me, more than I ever knew. He accepts me – he doesn’t hesitate to call me on it when I’m being irrational or overly bitchy or irresponsible…but he’s not unkind to me. He knows me inside out and he accepts me for who I am…and forgives me for my occasional bouts of extreme brainlessness. And every now and then, he does something so wonderful and amazing and unbelievable that it takes my breath away. And in between times, he brings me enormous joy every time I look at him or hear his voice or he touches me in passing…
I have two exquisite daughters, both of whom are a joy to me as much as they are a trial. I am constantly racking my brain to try to be sure I am doing the right things with them, and often feeling that I’ve failed – but I wouldn’t trade a second of it, because they are beautiful and precious and smart and funny and I adore every thing about them. Even the bad stuff. It’s part of what makes them who they are, and though I do want to teach them how to control themselves and to behave properly, so that they can get along in the world without making things unduly horrible for themselves – I do not want to change them. They are, in their very imperfection, perfect.
I have a nice home – it’s not anything extraordinary or outrageous, but it’s nicer than I ever thought I’d have, when I was younger. I have a very steady, stable job at which I am given significant responsibility and trusted to be competent. I have the amazing privilege of working with people I truly love and respect. I am privileged to spend time, almost daily, with people who make me laugh and brighten my world just that much more.
My life is not perfect; not nearly. There are things I would like to have – I would like to be completely out of debt, I would like to be able to go places and do things that are currently out of reach for more reasons than just money, I would like to be able to quit work and focus on writing, I would love for my kids to have straight As and perfect behavior in school…
But I don’t need those things to be happy. I have what I need. I have what it takes to bring me joy, and contentment. And what more, really, can anyone ask for?
So it seems to me, in the final analysis, that being happy is not about what you have or what you do or what you are…it’s about what you know. It’s about what you can see – can you see the joy in these things? Are you looking up, or looking down? Are you looking at what you’re striving for, or at what you already have? Because ambition, though it can be valuable, can also be an insidious poison – if you are constantly striving for something, can you ever take the time to be happy with what you’ve already achieved?
Keeping your eye on the prize is a great thing – but sometimes you already have the prize. Sometimes all your work and effort is really just about holding on to the prize you already have, not about winning the next one.
At least, that’s my conclusion. I have my prize. It’s simple, and maybe some people wouldn’t think it’s much of a prize – but I can’t imagine a better one.
I am a coward.
I have built myself a framework – a safety net, if you will – of rules and regulations and restrictions and conventions. My job, my home, my bank account, my children’s schools, my doctors’ appointments, my online blogs…these are all a part of the framework, the safety net. They all make me feel safe, and secure, and neatly slotted into my nice, safe, normal niche in life.
I know this because:
Yesterday, at lunch, I was sitting in the car at the gas station, waiting for a friend to come back after paying for gas. I was watching the cars go by, as they entered and exited the interstate, and thinking – as I always do – about who might be in them and where they might be going. Something about the day – the weather, perhaps, which was gray and rainy and gloomy, and cold – or about my own mood, gave me the oddest sensation that these people were all free as birds, going who knew where, while I was securely tied to the earth. I did not envy them.
I couldn’t help wondering if the guy in the old red Pontiac was on a road trip, headed to an unknown destination. Was the woman in the little Toyota running from something? Had she just quit her job and emptied her bank account and taken off to points unknown?
Why would I have these thoughts? One might speculate that they indicate a repressed desire in me to do exactly that – just cut all ties and fly away. But I didn’t find them appealing…I found them frightening. The idea of being in the car, driving, but not to anywhere…not having a job I have to be at the next day, not having kids to be picked up from school, not having bills to be paid on a particular day or a home to be cared for or a paycheck to ensure…was terrifying to me.
So that led me to wonder why? Why would I not WANT that, that ultimate freedom of having no responsibilities, no one to answer to, no one to take care of? Wouldn’t that be wonderful? But it didn’t seem wonderful to me; it seemed terrifying and heartbreaking and awful.
The fact that I have a job (okay, jobs) ensures that I get a paycheck. That paycheck ensures that I have a place to live and can pay my bills. If I want that security – a roof over my head every night, and knowing where it will be, and food to eat and each day a safe environment – then I must follow very strict rules and routines. Get up, get the kids to school, go to work, come home, make sure the kids are picked up, fed, etc…ad nauseam. I should feel trapped by all that – but I don’t. I feel safe and comforted.
To me, the most frightening thing in the world is not knowing what to expect. I did not realize that about myself until just now. Everything that I fear – death, old age, divorce, an empty nest, losing a job, having a serious health condition, going on a new ride at the amusement park for heaven’s sake – all comes down to that. They are all situations in which I do not know what to expect, and that is bone-chillingly terrifying to me.
It seems blindingly obvious, now, that this is at the root of my compulsive planning and organizing and list-making; I am not just a naturally organized person who has a talent for creating order from chaos (though I do) – I am borderline obsessive-compulsive because I am terrified of disorder!
I knew that I had control issues. I thought that I had dealt with them to some extent, but I find that the fear of a loss of control – of not knowing where I am headed and having no way of steering – is worse now than it ever was. It just hides now, under and behind other things. That is sobering and saddening to me, because I don’t want to be timid. Timidity is not a positive trait, to my mind. I wish I knew how to conquer this particular fear…perhaps if my faith were stronger, and I could simply trust that someone is taking care of me, I could deal with it more rationally. But as it stands, I am petrified of the unknown, to the extent (evidently) that I perseverate about it at odd times and seemingly without provocation.
Historically, having unsolicited thoughts like this has meant that an issue I have been avoiding is rearing its ugly head, demanding to be recognized. I am afraid of that, as well – my fear is so great in this context that I am afraid to even think about it, but I can’t help it. It almost sounds like it may be time for therapy again…but I dread that too. It’s never an easy process, and to get to the dawn you have to first go through the night.
I am afraid of so many things, for someone who considers herself fairly assertive and bold. I don’t like that about myself.
Filed under: Life Lessons, Psychobabble, Random thoughts, Spirituality
Haven’t posted in a while and thought I should…also, the change of seasons (gradual though it may be!) has gotten me, well, thinking again.
I think that there are few forces in our lives that are so simultaneously reviled and relied-upon as change. Change is a threat to many of us, a shifting of elements in our lives that requires a readjusting of balance. For whatever reason, we tend to prefer stasis, with all its comfort and ease and lack of the need for effort.
Stasis, however, equals stagnation, and deep down I think we all know this. If we do not change – if our lives do not change – if the world does not change – then there is no growth, and the absence of growth indicates and even induces decay. If we are not changing, we are dying. I truly believe this.
So while we are afraid of change – because, after all, change brings the unknown, and we are terrified of the unknown – we also crave it, for subconsciously we recognize its value and importance. So at the same time we are carefully arranging our lives into safe, boxy little routines, we also grow restless and initiate change – by moving the furniture periodically, redecorating the house, trading in the car, having lunch at a new place…still safe, tidy little changes. Enough to keep us feeling that we are moving, but not enough to actually require rebalancing.
Perhaps this is a wise and civilized method of dealing with the need for change, but I wonder. Nature would not agree – the trees do not change their leaves from green to brown and then back to green without ever losing those leaves. Next summer’s butterflies will be completely different ones from this summer’s. A river, when cutting a new channel, does not carefully pack away the old one just in case it decides it doesn’t like the new one, and it doesn’t save the receipt for the new one, either. The risk that is undertaken – what if the new channel doesn’t work out? – is an inherent part of the value of the process of change.
I am not suggesting that anyone create serious upheaval in his or her life as a nod to the need for change. I am as much of a creature of habit as anyone, probably more than most. I don’t like change, it scares me. Yet at times I wonder – all of the things I don’t like about myself, all of the things I wish I could fix about my life – how do I expect to do this, within the very same parameters that allowed the situation to evolve as is? If I truly wish to change the outcome, I must change some of the variables of the experiment.
It is a conundrum, I will admit. I don’t want my life to change a lot…but I want certain elements to change. Yet in order to achieve one, I must endure the other.
Fall is a season of change, of putting away and letting go and setting free and quieting. The mad, burgeoning growth of summer has ceased and the rising life force has reached its pinnacle, and now begins to drop. Everything fades and falls and becomes still. It is a season of preparation for rest. It is the last stretching and yawning and sitting on the front porch watching the fireflies, before wandering off to bed. It is the evening of the year, and it is a beautiful and glorious one, though also a bit wistful. Perhaps that is because we know that change is in the air – that we must bid farewell to the rush and pulse of summer, and prepare ourselves for the quiet stillness, the chill peace, of winter’s long sleep. And though we crave that change, we also fear it, and will miss what we leave behind.
Perhaps the wheel and turn of nature’s seasons is axiomatic, an enormous and inescapable example of what our lives should be? The discarding of that which is no longer appropriate and needed, and the pulling out of that which suits our new circumstances and will further the aims of the universe?
This year, when you’re pulling out your sweaters and coats, take a moment to reflect on it – pull out some new ideas as well. Dig out some long-neglected question or problem that has been stored away because you were too busy to deal with it, shake the dust off, and see how it fits into your life to come. Open up some completely new area of conjecture, and resolve to spend the winter puzzling over it.
Change, though frightening, can be good. Make it work for you.
Filed under: Fear and Pain, Happiness and Joy, Life Lessons, Psychobabble, Spirituality
Forgiveness Is Not So Fashionable « Mr Ed Catholic
The statement in this post that forgiveness brings freedom is one of immense and mostly-overlooked truth and power. There is nothing quite so freeing as making the mental and emotional decision that something no longer has to matter so much. For me, that is one of the defining characteristics of true forgiveness: I am certainly still aware of the transgression, but I need no longer base any of my actions, feelings or thoughts upon that transgression. I am free to cease to react.
When you have truly let go…when you have truly forgiven, and moved on…a binding snaps. A chain dissolves…a wall crumbles…a barrier erodes. One inhibiting, restraining, binding factor has disappeared from your life and you are free to react without consideration of that factor.
I do know whereof I speak. I have been given many opportunities, in my life, to learn the power of forgiveness – both given, and received. I rue the experiences that made forgiveness necessary - but I rejoice in the forgiveness itself. I will never regret that, no matter what.
Forgiveness does not mean blinding oneself to the original transgression. It does not mean saying that it was “okay”. It does not mean or imply that you have condoned that behavior, that you have dismissed it, or that you have forgotten it. It means that, while aware of the action, you have chosen to move beyond it, to accept that it happened and acknowledge the consequences thereof, and to reject the further damaging of your soul by that action. You have thrown off your bonds.
Now, you may well choose not to give that person another chance to hurt you, and a severance of that relationship – if done calmly and with prior self-examination and reason – does not invalidate your forgiveness. You may well have reached the conclusion, through calm examination, that even though you choose not to continue to castigate and excoriate that person, you also believe that there is a high likelihood of a repeat offense and you choose not to place yourself in the way of further harm. If you have done so calmly, without angst, then this does not mean you have not forgiven. It only means, simply put, that you have learned that touching the hot stove creates a burn. You don’t hate the stove; you don’t resent the stove and lie awake thinking about how much it hurt you – you simply recognize that you probably shouldn’t touch it anymore. Yet you are no longer holding on to the fear, pain, anger that the action engendered. You are free.
Likewise, forgiving yourself is very freeing. Letting go of the guilt and shame that you carry around because you think you need to, you think you deserve it, you think that if you let it go it means you don’t care that you did something bad… letting go of that can lighten your emotional and spiritual load immensely. Once again, this does not have to mean that you have learned nothing from your mistake – it is possible to acknowledge a negative action and learn from it without performing emotional self-flagellation every day for the rest of your life. Let it go. Forgive yourself. Do not excuse, for behavior that hurts another should not be excused. Simply acknowledge that you have behaved wrongly, accept your culpability, be sincerely remorseful…and resolve to do better. Make amends…undo some or all of the harm, if possible. But don’t carry around that self-hate. Forgive yourself…let it go.
Forgiveness is one of the most wonderful experiences available to us as human beings, and it is one thing that I sincerely wish all people would allow themselves to experience.
Filed under: Life Lessons, Love, Marriage, Psychobabble, Random thoughts
I have some more thoughts on love.
I believe that love is not born, it is made. I believe that what we think of as love – when you meet someone and “fall in love” with them – is nothing more than a complex cocktail of physical attraction, emotional need, and situational readiness.
You meet someone, and presumably you find them attractive. There is something that makes you look more than once. Perhaps you work with them, and you see them regularly, talk to them, spend time with them. Something in them is attractive to you, probably on a physical level. That’s usually a basic element.
Then there is an emotional need that you have, whatever it may be, that they fill. Perhaps it is for someone to praise you…or comfort you…or intellectually stimulate you…talk to you as though you are an intelligent person…or just like you. There are a million different needs that we have, each of us in our own unique way, and every one of them is valid. Relationships meet needs, or we wouldn’t have them. So this person meets your need for, say, someone who appreciates your ability to whip everyone else’s ass at Trivial Pursuit, as well as your mad driving skills.
And then there is situational readiness. Perhaps you are 27 and thinking that it’s time to get married and start a family (even subconsciously). Perhaps you have been divorced for a few months and are ready to start dating. Or perhaps you just feel that your spouse doesn’t appreciate you and you are restless and looking for validation (which also fills the emotional need category). For whatever reason, you are in a place where you are ready to engage with someone on an intimate, emotional level, whether you know it and acknowledge it or not.
So you “fall in love”.
And then one of two things happens: you stay together and form a strong, lasting relationship, or you don’t.
See, this is where I think real, true, honest love comes in. I think love is made…built…formed and cultivated. I think that it takes shared experiences, emotional give-and-take (both good and bad), trials, life lessons…I think it takes time. It is easy to fall in love…but real love is a different animal entirely, and one that grows but slowly.
Real love, to me, is when you look over at the person next to you…you know that they have done things to hurt you…you know that you have done things to hurt them. You know, and do not forget, all the harsh, angry, unkind, hurtful words that have been exchanged. You remember the frustrations and disappointments. You remember the days when it was almost over…or even when it was over. You remember the nights when you couldn’t stand to be next to them, or they couldn’t stand to be next to you. You remember the coldnesses and the indifference.
You remember all this…and yet still, somehow, you feel that connection, that fundamental and unbreakable bond. There is a current that runs between you, beginning somewhere in the dermal layer of the skin, that is almost like magnetism in its power and sensation. When your hand is close to their skin, you can feel that force between you thrumming and drawing you closer. You can look in their eyes and know their soul – maybe you don’t agree with it all, maybe you don’t even like it all, but you know it. You know them, on a level that is indescribable and breathtaking. And you know them not because you have spent a few weeks together and talked on the phone a lot, or even because you have gotten married and lived together for a few months – but because of so much time and so many shared experiences that your lives have truly meshed, and with them your souls.
It sounds so clichéd to say they are “a part of you” – but it is nearly true. You fit together, but not like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, you are so intertwined that it is more like a metal alloy – so intermingled that you could not possibly extricate one without irreparably damaging the other. You aren’t glued together, you are collated. Yes, you are still two separate people, but there are so many connections and ties that if you took one away, the other would not exist in the same form.
We wonder why, when love (real love) dies, it is so hard for us to survive. We feel that we do not know ourselves any more, that our lives have been changed and damaged and possibly even destroyed. This is why. It’s like removing malignant cancer – you can’t get all the growth, without damaging the healthy tissue. Sometimes that tissue can heal, and I think love is like that – there is a lot of damage from excising that love, and it takes a long, long time, but it can eventually heal. It will not have the same form as it did before, though. There will be holes and ragged edges and scar tissue.
I believe this is one reason that it is so hard, when we really and truly have loved, to leave. We know that even though the relationship may have deteriorated to an irreparable state, leaving that person and trying to excise that love is going to tear us apart in ways that will be so hard to heal. We know that we are tearing away parts of ourselves that will not come away from them, leaving those parts behind – and taking with us some parts of them, likewise.
That is painful. It’s unavoidable that it should be painful. We’re not tearing our bodies, but our souls, and they don’t make Lortab for the soul. There’s no pain reliever, and the ones we try are usually ineffective, harmful, or both. Time is the only healer, and it is a harsh and pitiless one.
Love doesn’t always grow like this. Many, many times a couple will fall in love, marry, spend years together, and never truly mesh. They maintain their separateness and continue to be only themselves, with no true intermingling of the souls. And when they split, it hurts, but no more than it hurt to break up with a long-term boyfriend or girlfriend. They get over it, they move on. And that’s great for them. And no doubt they really cared about one another – but I don’t think that’s love. Call me whatever you want, I don’t care (you don’t have to read this, after all), but that’s my opinion.
True love is when, no matter how angry you are, you would rather die than hurt that person, because it really and truly hurts you to hurt them. Not when you think that, but when it is true in your soul.
True love is when you are angry but you make excuses to your friends and family anyway, because you can’t stand for your love to be denigrated.
True love is when their touch, and only their touch, really and truly makes it all better.
True love is when you can feel them enter a room, even though you didn’t see or hear them.
True love is when they matter more than you do.
True love is when you know you should leave, but you can’t.
True love is when they hurt you, and you know they shouldn’t have, but you can’t help finding a reason why it’s your own fault, because. Just because.
True love is overrated. It is dangerous. It is incredibly powerful and if you let it, it can destroy you, because you won’t walk away from it no matter what.
True love can be incredibly beautiful, and incredibly painful, and sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.
It can make you wish you were dead – but it can make life worth living when nothing else does.
If you have it…you know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, but think that what you have IS true love, you are pissed off at me right now. Which is fine.
If you don’t have it – refuse to settle for less. Go build it. But please be careful. If the person you are with is inconsiderate, selfish, or downright mean, get out. Don’t let it become true love. Don’t let it grow – because it will only get worse, and you will never walk away. Or you won’t walk away until serious damage has been done, be it physical or emotional. So make sure you are letting it grow with someone you can really and truly trust.
If you do have it, and it’s good – thank God for it, and watch your back.
Filed under: Life Lessons, Psychobabble, Random thoughts, Strength
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about necessity. We all have what we think of as our limits…how much we are capable of, how much we can handle, what is just “too much”. I think, though, that we are often very wrong about what those limits really are.
We’ve all heard about the pregnant wife who lifts the car off her husband in a moment of crisis, or the father who goes into the burning building again and again to rescue his kids, despite smoke inhalation and burns that should have dropped him in his tracks…and those are a good example of being capable of more than we think we are, but they aren’t even what I’m talking about. The body is designed to produce enormous amounts of adrenaline and cortisol to allow us to perform feats like this in an emergency, but what I’m talking about isn’t even physical so much as mental.
What I’m talking about is the long, grueling tasks of life that we think are just too much. How often have you looked at a single mother who works two jobs and still manages to bake cupcakes to send to school for her daughter’s birthday, and said, “I don’t know how you do it!” Or spoken to a co-worker who has, for the seventh week in a row, pulled 60 or 70 hours, and asked “How do you do it?” And often, in fact nearly always, the answer is, “I don’t know – I just do it.”
You do it because you have to. We all do. We get up in the morning and, whether we have had enough sleep or not…whether we are feeling well or not…even if we are tired or headachy or our bodies ache — we do it. We make the coffee, fix breakfast, get dressed, go to work…we work all day…we come home and make dinner…read to the kids…bathe the baby…get everyone to bed…and then maybe we have a little time for us. Unless you’re working two jobs – and then you work all day, maybe come home and change clothes, and then go work all evening. Either way, you fall into bed at the end of the very long day, exhausted, so that you can get up the next morning and do it all again.
How do we do it? How do we just keep plodding on when it seems like there’s nothing left? I have been asking myself that lately, because I have not had a day off in four weeks. I have worked at least 8 hours a day, every single day, (and many days 12 or 13 hours) for four weeks. I have also done laundry, cleaned house, attended back-to-school meetings, taken the kids clothes shopping, and a hundred other things I can’t even remember.
The other tasks of life don’t slow down or get put on hold just because I’m working two jobs. The kids still need to be fed, the house still needs to be cleaned, the clothes still have to be washed. Bills still have to get paid, cars still have to be repaired (that reminds me, I need to call the repair shop!), and all the minutiae of daily life are there, needing attention.
Six months ago…a year ago…I would have said I could not do this. There is no way. I am not capable of surviving on four or five hours of sleep a night, no weekends off, and no time to breathe or rest. I am not capable of working two full-time jobs and still being a wife and mom. Sorry, nope, can’t do it.
But I was wrong. I thought I knew my limitations, but I underestimated myself. So if I am capable of this, what else can I do that I didn’t think I could? I don’t think I’m capable of maintaining a healthy lifestyle while doing all this – but maybe I’m wrong about that too? I don’t think I can find time to write – am I wrong about that? Is the sky really and truly the limit?
(And at the end of it all, in a year when hopefully this is all in the past and I am only working one job and being a wife and mom, is there going to be anything left of me? Or am I burning it all now? By exceeding what I thought were my limitations, am I using up resources that I will need later? Do we have a finite amount of strength and energy to be used during our lives, and am I burning all the reserve fuel now? )
I wonder about these things. I worry about them. Sometimes at night, when I finally get to bed after everyone else has been asleep for hours, I lie awake despite my exhaustion and wonder – what am I doing to myself? Because I really, truly thought I would crash before now. I really didn’t think I had it in me – so now I’m wondering where it’s coming from.
Yeah, I know, I think too much. Big surprise there!
But anyway, give it some thought. Try it out. Do one thing today that you didn’t think you could. You think you can only walk for an hour? Walk for an hour and a half. Don’t think you’re capable of making that complicated recipe? Do it anyway. Convinced that those algebra problems are beyond you? Do them. And make a vow to yourself, each day, to try at least one thing that you didn’t think you could do. There is no failure unless you never try.
You may surprise yourself. In fact, I’ll be willing to bet you will. Because at the end of the day, I suspect that our limitations are only in our minds and that if we push, we may find they don’t exist at all – or at least, that they are a lot farther than we thought they were.
Filed under: Family, Friendship, Happiness and Joy, Health and Fitness, Love, Marriage, Money, Motherhood, Old Stuff, Psychobabble, Random thoughts, Spirituality, Transplants from LiveJournal, weight loss
I hesitate to call these New Year’s Resolutions…those are nothing more than rules we make in order to have the mixed joy and shame of breaking them. We don’t really “resolve” anything – we know when we make them that we will not keep them. We make them almost as a sort of game – how long will we keep them this year? How long will it take us to break every one on the list? It is a running joke, for many of us.Funny as this always seems, it strikes me (after having learned so much this year!) that this is really a very self-destructive process. We set ourselves up for failure, and each failure (though we may laugh about it) is another nail in the coffin of our sense of self-worth, of confidence, of capability and trustworthiness. Every single time we fail (having made that nearly inevitable for ourselves) we lose a little more faith in our own abilities and strength. And every ounce of confidence and faith we lose weakens us that much more, making failure even more likely the next time.
I’m not doing that anymore. I am through with tearing myself down. I spent so many years doing that, and not even knowing it; but that phase of my life is over. I am looking forward, eyes on the prize – and the prize is happiness, self-respect, strength and joy. All the things I had lost through my own ignorance and self-doubt. No more!
So this year, I am not making “resolutions”. Instead, I am making a list of things I can do to improve my life, my health, my happiness, and my contribution to the world around me. I may or may not be able to integrate all of these things into my daily life, but I can make myself more aware of the things I, personally, can do to change the world.
So here they are:
1. I can try to meditate, if not daily, at least as often as I can. This strengthens my spirit; it soothes my soul and calms my mind and fills me with a peace and serenity and personal strength that make every day better and more rewarding. This is not only good for me, but for those around me who reap the benefits of my calmer, stronger persona.
2. I can continue my personal journey toward a healthy, strong body. This can be accomplished through maintaining my new, healthy eating habits, and taking every opportunity to engage in healthy exercise, as well as making opportunities when none present themselves. Again, this benefits not only me but also those around me. When I am strong and healthy, I am capable of caring for myself and for others to a much greater extent. I am happier, I am calmer, I am more joyful, and I am setting a wonderful example for my family.
3. I can be as patient as possible with the shortcomings of others. I have long since accepted that I am not perfect, and I should strive to accept that in others as well. I can make allowances for bad-temperedness, for poor manners, for selfishness, for over-criticism, for laziness and other things, WITHOUT seeing those things as acceptable. I can continue to strive to avoid those things in myself, without condemning those around me for not meeting that standard. After all, I will most certainly not manage to eradicate those traits completely from myself; what right, then, do I have to expect a complete absence of them in others? I can be tolerant, recognizing an unpleasant trait without placing blame or passing judgment. There is a Judge who is responsible for this, and it is not me.
4. I can be as loving as it is possible to be. I can strive to release my fears of rejection, of judgment, of scorn and mockery, and offer to those I love and value the very best of my nature. I can show them that they are important to me, that my life is far the better for their presence and would be far the worse for their absence, without fearing that they will not return my regard. My life is bettered by the very act of loving others; if it is returned, then my harvest is twofold, but if it is not, the value of my own act is not lessened. I need not be loved by all whom I love, in order for that love to be a positive force in my life.
5. I can take more time. I can strive to slow down in every aspect of my life, to stop rushing from one thing to another so frenetically that I rarely devote to anything the time that it deserves. I can accept that in the course of a day, there are things that will not be accomplished. Some of them may even be very important things, but at no time will that signal the end of the world. There will always be tomorrow, and if there is not, then I will be beyond any concern for the things of this world. In the time I am given, I will make each moment count, for myself and for those that I love.
6. I can spend more time with my children, just being. I can sit with the Cricket and watch a movie, or play a board game, or go for a walk with the Nightingale or just sit in her bedroom and have a long conversation about nothing much at all. I can show my children that my time is valuable and that they are worth whatever amount of it they need. I can give them the gift of myself, without needing a reason or rushing into something else.
7. I can remember financial prudence. I can be mindful of each dollar spent, as much as I am of each moment lived. I can remember the difference between “need” and “want” and act accordingly, giving to my money the full value that it possesses. Through this, as well, I will be demonstrating good, strong, wise behaviors to my children.
8. I can explore the value of forgiveness. I can remember that the human heart has an infinite capacity for healing, and I need not guard it so fanatically that I refuse to open it to anyone or anything. Like a city under siege from without, its own walls can be its downfall, keeping enemies out but also keeping out nourishment and revitalization. I can remember this and be aware of my own guardedness, striving to open my heart even to those who have hurt it in the past, without flinching from the possibility that they may hurt it again. If they do, I will heal, as many times as necessary – but at least I will have lost no opportunity for the nourishment and revitalization of love and friendship.
9. I can strive for order and organization around me, in my work and in my personal life. I can remember that chaos and lack of structure inevitably result in unhappiness, uncertainty, fear, and, ultimately, loss or regret. Mistakes are made and damage done by a forgotten bill, a missed deadline, or even simply the rush of struggling to get something done at the last possible minute, resulting in lowered standards. I can strive to make my life simple and clean and structured, while allowing time and room for spontaneity and unscheduled laughter.
10. And last, but certainly not least, I can “always be a little kinder than necessary”. I can watch for opportunities to do a kind thing or lend a helpful hand to those around me, whether it is bringing a co-worker documents from the printer or spending a Saturday working at a local shelter. The tiniest acts of kindness do good for both he who gives and he who receives, and no matter how little I may be able to do, I can strive to always do that little.
These are things I can do…things I should do…and things I will try to do, whenever possible. I recognize that I may not always accomplish them, but I also recognize that though I miss thirty opportunities to live by these precepts, if I seize upon a single opportunity, then my life is still better.
I am not perfect, and I will not be perfect – no more than anyone, or anything, in this world is perfect. I will not even STRIVE for perfection, for that, again, is not only inviting but demanding failure. Yet I will strive for betterment, and to live the happiest, fullest, most peaceful and joy-filled life that I can live, in the time I am given. I cannot imagine any better way to live.
