As I watch the world around me change rapidly, not necessarily toward the positive, each morning brings a new sense of sorting out what is really important. I go back and read the things that I write, not to see how good I think that they sound and pat myself on the back, but to measure how far I’ve come, or more importantly how far I have left to go.
Today was no different. I went back and read, things I’d written on the blog and in my personal journals. I went back and looked at every and anything that I could get my hands on this morning, looking for some evidence that I as a person have grown versus regressed. I went back through conversations had with my friends and colleagues, changes in my relationships, everything. I wasn’t feeling like I had grown.
Three years ago at the end of a very expensive self-help filled weekend, I made a promise to myself. It was basically that I was going to take the opportunity everyday to find a reason to be thankful for that day, an opportunity to help someone, love someone or hug someone. And take the opportunity to allow someone to love me. I promised I was going to stop spending time waiting for things to fall, the shoe to drop or for things to head south.
This morning that was tested…
To say that I’m tired is an understatement. Suffice it to say, I am pregnant. 7 months pregnant to be exact and now intimately understanding how different my body feels carrying an extra 30 pounds. I felt myself shutting down this morning. Moving from vibrant to necessary functions only in a matter of minutes. I found myself emotionally more vulnerable and resenting it. I found myself experiencing all the things that all the moms around me told me I’d feel and I didn’t believe them. I should have!
In this highly emotional state I had the nerve to attempt to do some more self-evaluation. Not the best of ideas! But what I did discover in a very honest moment of sitting in the dark of my bathroom, that I have become acutely aware of how much I need the people in my life. I don’t like being reliant on other people, nor am I a big fan of the kind of inter-connectivity that my life has moved into. But I wouldn’t have a clue how to enjoy this life without the people that are in it. Because it is those people who have called me out on my promise and challenge me to be better, be more. It is their strength that keeps me going keeps me grounded and keeps me dreaming.
I discovered that there is a possibility of life that does not include a plan B and that that may not be a bad thing. I discovered that loneliness is self-imposed and all the times that I haven’t felt connected were because I disconnected. I discovered that the best way to get more was to give more, starting with yourself, being careful to know the difference between giving into, giving up and giving away your best self and not being fed in return. I discovered that keeping the promise to myself was easier when I was willing to keep it because of or in spite of myself.
So, in this pursuit of having it all, I have found that my strength is my circle. I once heard that each of us is the sum total of the 5 people closest to us. So after the self-analysis this morning, I broke out a pen and paper and rated all of those people on a 1-5 scale. I kind of like my average.
Crisis officially averted…
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Supposed to List
Something happens when you figure out what you’re really made of? What you really want and what you’re willing to do to have it? More importantly what you’re not willing to do. The proverbial line in the sand has moved more times than I can count throughout the years. I remember when it was, I will not get married... I will not have kids... I will have a corporate career...more frequent flyer first class miles than I could possibly need...possibly a slight addiction to shopping and a salary that could fund my girl version of a playboy bachelor life. ...That was 10 years ago. Nowhere on the list of things that I ever thought that I would do or be was mom, wife, believer or many of the things I am now.
I had a conversation with my husband the other day about my list of supposed to’s. I was supposed to be a lawyer, doctor, or an executive by now. I should have been working on the next advanced degree. My name was supposed to be published in some publication that catered to the market and career path that I would chose. I was supposed to have made my father proud by following in my family’s very successful footsteps. I have accomplished none of my supposed to list. I’ve come close to many of them, but not the way I was expected to, my name was to be followed by letters, my degree was supposed to read my maiden last name, my dad was supposed to have real bragging rights by now.
It’s hard to be honest and say that I know that I am happier and more fulfulled in my current life than I would have been with the corporate day dream, that in many ways I still feel like I’ve failed my father. I can’t pretend there aren’t times when I think about the "would have, could have, should have" list and have regret. But I’ve also learned that the most valuable thing is the sense of awareness and peace that comes with doing what you were made for versus just what you are good at. Honestly I would have been a great lawyer. I might have even been a pretty decent judge as my dad always hoped. What we never thought I’d be good at, mom, wife turned out to be the very things that helped me find who I really am in.
So what happens when we let go of what we think we’re supposed to be? What we’ve been told all our lives that we should be. When we stop measuring our success by our supposed to list and we start measuring it by quality of life measures? Do we get the chance to enjoy a day? Do we earn the right to feel accomplished even though Dr. is not in our title? Can my dad still be proud of his daughter for finding happiness instead of the success he wanted for her? I wrestle with those questions often on this path. If I had followed his plan I would definitely have been financially more comfortable, but would I love more, live more, have more of myself to give?
As good a dad as I have, and I have one of the best, the one thing I wish I would have learned was the real value of happiness and permission to enjoy it even if you never check off anything on the list.
I had a conversation with my husband the other day about my list of supposed to’s. I was supposed to be a lawyer, doctor, or an executive by now. I should have been working on the next advanced degree. My name was supposed to be published in some publication that catered to the market and career path that I would chose. I was supposed to have made my father proud by following in my family’s very successful footsteps. I have accomplished none of my supposed to list. I’ve come close to many of them, but not the way I was expected to, my name was to be followed by letters, my degree was supposed to read my maiden last name, my dad was supposed to have real bragging rights by now.
It’s hard to be honest and say that I know that I am happier and more fulfulled in my current life than I would have been with the corporate day dream, that in many ways I still feel like I’ve failed my father. I can’t pretend there aren’t times when I think about the "would have, could have, should have" list and have regret. But I’ve also learned that the most valuable thing is the sense of awareness and peace that comes with doing what you were made for versus just what you are good at. Honestly I would have been a great lawyer. I might have even been a pretty decent judge as my dad always hoped. What we never thought I’d be good at, mom, wife turned out to be the very things that helped me find who I really am in.
So what happens when we let go of what we think we’re supposed to be? What we’ve been told all our lives that we should be. When we stop measuring our success by our supposed to list and we start measuring it by quality of life measures? Do we get the chance to enjoy a day? Do we earn the right to feel accomplished even though Dr. is not in our title? Can my dad still be proud of his daughter for finding happiness instead of the success he wanted for her? I wrestle with those questions often on this path. If I had followed his plan I would definitely have been financially more comfortable, but would I love more, live more, have more of myself to give?
As good a dad as I have, and I have one of the best, the one thing I wish I would have learned was the real value of happiness and permission to enjoy it even if you never check off anything on the list.
Ok Really...
Ok really, here’s the thing about wanting having or pursuing a great life. Or should I say what I think is a great life. There’s never a day where the fight doesn’t get bigger and the want to quit doesn’t get stronger. I can’t even begin to put into words what it really is. I can however describe what it feels like. It felt like my chest closing, my lungs tightening and my heart racing. It felt like I was losing my mind, it felt like I was on the brink of death, it felt like I was alone and small and the voices in my head were so loud that I couldn’t hear anything over them. It felt like the closest to hell that I can remember. It felt like my world was falling apart again. I wasn’t ready to lose big again. I’m not ready. I wanted to have a mental breakdown. I thought I was having a nervous breakdown. I thought that I wasn’t going to see morning. It was 3am, my husband was asleep next to me, I couldn’t breathe, I wanted to curl into him and find safety. I wanted to call my sister and my friend, but they like me, have husbands and kids and a long-standing lack of sleep that I wouldn’t rob them of. It was dark and I was alone and for the first time in a long time in my life… I was afraid.
Why did it feel that way, because I’m married to a man that I’m in love with that I don’t always like very much, whom I’m not always sure is in love with me despite what he says, because it never looks like something that I can recognize. I hear him say, “I love you.” I know that everyday he goes to work and he pays all the bills and I take care of our kids and our home and I get to chase this dream, or this vision depending on what day you catch me. And I know that for my husband that’s what he’s supposed to do. Being a husband for him isn’t about relationship or intimacy or closeness or even conversation. It’s about providing, keeping a roof over our heads, paying the car note on the very nice car I’m privileged to drive. I know at a head level that my husband loves me, values me, and appreciates me. I know he believes that every bill he pays, every mortgage check I write, he is saying “I love you baby, you matter to me.” I can’t however say that I get that on a heart level. Because it doesn’t come covered with flowers or compliments. It is rarely without yelling and it doesn’t very often feel soft or tender. It is not hugs or kisses or tender moments between us. Don’t get me wrong it’s not that there are never those times, they are however rare and deeply craved for on my part. My educated evolved self will tell me that it’s me being high maintenance, needy; lacking a self-completeness that I was convinced I had before I got married. My base and very honest non-feminist self will tell me that none of my higher educated well read, well spoken good on paper stuff matters. What matters is knowing that when I feel small, insignificant or afraid I can turn to my husband, tell him where I am and know that not only will he find me, but he’ll lead me back to where I should be.
The truth may be that I’m selfish in ways that don’t seem so selfish. That I’m asking more than I know I’m asking and starving in ways that he doesn’t know that I’m starving. I can say this and feel a sense of release. I can’t say it to him without feeling like I’m robbing him of something more valuable to him than what it’s costing me. So needless to say I’m stuck! And I want to get unstuck and I want him to pull me out of the quagmire I’m in. For a woman who believes in rescuing herself and has never needed a superhero, why do I want him to save me so badly???
Why did it feel that way, because I’m married to a man that I’m in love with that I don’t always like very much, whom I’m not always sure is in love with me despite what he says, because it never looks like something that I can recognize. I hear him say, “I love you.” I know that everyday he goes to work and he pays all the bills and I take care of our kids and our home and I get to chase this dream, or this vision depending on what day you catch me. And I know that for my husband that’s what he’s supposed to do. Being a husband for him isn’t about relationship or intimacy or closeness or even conversation. It’s about providing, keeping a roof over our heads, paying the car note on the very nice car I’m privileged to drive. I know at a head level that my husband loves me, values me, and appreciates me. I know he believes that every bill he pays, every mortgage check I write, he is saying “I love you baby, you matter to me.” I can’t however say that I get that on a heart level. Because it doesn’t come covered with flowers or compliments. It is rarely without yelling and it doesn’t very often feel soft or tender. It is not hugs or kisses or tender moments between us. Don’t get me wrong it’s not that there are never those times, they are however rare and deeply craved for on my part. My educated evolved self will tell me that it’s me being high maintenance, needy; lacking a self-completeness that I was convinced I had before I got married. My base and very honest non-feminist self will tell me that none of my higher educated well read, well spoken good on paper stuff matters. What matters is knowing that when I feel small, insignificant or afraid I can turn to my husband, tell him where I am and know that not only will he find me, but he’ll lead me back to where I should be.
The truth may be that I’m selfish in ways that don’t seem so selfish. That I’m asking more than I know I’m asking and starving in ways that he doesn’t know that I’m starving. I can say this and feel a sense of release. I can’t say it to him without feeling like I’m robbing him of something more valuable to him than what it’s costing me. So needless to say I’m stuck! And I want to get unstuck and I want him to pull me out of the quagmire I’m in. For a woman who believes in rescuing herself and has never needed a superhero, why do I want him to save me so badly???
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)