Breathe. Just breathe. WTF is that? When my head feels like it’s tingling and I’m swelled with reactions to this life? Like I could punch something so hard if I hear another minute of whining and crying and nasty?
I have a beautiful life. A funny, smart, handsome husband. Six healthy kids, a nice roof over our heads, a husband who earns enough to take care of all of us — good schools for the kids, to boot. I get to buy organic produce, dairy from grass-fed cows, to go to the doctor when needed, regular teeth cleanings, some help with cleaning and laundry. Cars. A few trips a year. A dog, a sweet dog named Bodhi.
But right now it’s not so pretty. My brain is tending toward cranky and falling right in with the pervading ungrateful, unappreciative outlook. I find myself feeling — from time to time and maybe more during the summer when everyone is home — like a failure.
Like I’m not contributing the way I could. Bored with the mundane. Annoyed. Powerless. Even worse because I know the brain science, the power of positivity; I know my core desired feelings…and I’m no ocean right now. And on top of all that, I weigh more when I feel this way. No matter what I do, the weight stays on as a reminder that I’m hanging on. To old habits, patterns of responding rather than reflecting. Of not going to the breath. Not having my own back. Not being here now. In this moment. Then, this moment.
That’s where the rub is. The perpetual tide shift. I’m free in theory, but not always in practice.
I don’t practice being free — by writing, hitting publish. By going to pole dancing, regularly. By painting. By cooking — for fun. Getting up earlier to meditate or stretch or go for a walk. By whisking my husband away on a trip…just the two of us to get back to what it feels like to enjoy one another. To be friends again rather than co-captains of the Parenting Team.
Because the whining, the “Mom, you’re so weird,” the back talk, the “I’m bored,” the being in love with all things electronic…that’s not going away.
When it’s gone, they’ll be away. They’ll be in college or beyond. When all these button-pushing things are gone, they will be too. Hopefully off learning or making their happy way in the world.
But I want to enjoy them now. And I don’t want to wait until they are all off in college to get to all the goodness I want to be in this life.
I can feel it, sense it, in my dreams. I can feel it when I’m in a yoga class or even DJing one. The perfect music to accompany movements. Just zoning in on the breath, the muscles to invite, to sense the shortness of breath and slow it down. This is a miracle. This is a drug of the healthy variety.
But how to tap into that when not in the class, or on the retreat, guiding a workshop, or walking on the beach?
It’s the allowing of grace.
How do you allow grace?
Show me your grace on instagram @lifeyum and tag #theexhaleproject
xoxo
That is pretty much the real thing probably going on in a lot of mums minds right now. Its part of the routine change, children being home from school so everything has to come to a halt and shift gear. With my response to this it has helped me realize that somehow certain aspects needs to be routine (no matter what) i.e. listening to ourself and knowing what primary tasks to fit in. Mine is getting to the gym and preparing healthy food, if that is all I can do at least I’m doing something! and holding on to one part of myself.
As far as enjoying the children in the now, I think every mum looks back and says sometimes “if only I could do it all again.” I do. However at the time we do what we can do and sometime just being present and available for their needs is a comfort that mum is around. They watch us mess around in the kitchen making meals and other chores, which are all learning observations that they will take to their families one day. Maybe don’t try to hard on the now and just be now. Ha, maybe mum needs to let go to and chill with the children.
Thank you Lisa. I miss you and think about your strength often xo
Oh, dear Pamela! This: “Maybe don’t try too hard on the now and just be now. Ha, maybe mum needs to let go to and chill with the children.” Such good advice from one of the most wholehearted people I’ve met.
Miss you so and thank you for this.
As you know, I didn’t even have the word ‘grace’ in my vocabulary for most of my life. I was self-centered, opinionated and judgmental. By the grace of others, I managed to bounce, relatively unscathed, from one great opportunity to another and one wonderful relationship to another. Like you I found myself in a loving relationship that I couldn’t have possible imagined I would ever deserve let along be a part of . . . and yet, I felt like I had not reached my potential and I struggled to keep my hyper-criticism of all things great and small under control. Six years into our marriage, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer, underwent a partial radical neck dissection, chemo/radiation, and then 16 weeks of hyperbaric oxygen therapy, followed by another year of PT. That covers 2011-2013. 2014-2015 started out with our move to Denver for quality of life reasons. In December my mother died, and in February my father died. Again, I struggled to make sense of it all, to stay centered with limited success. Two things help me find lightness of being. First and foremost, I was advised by a colleague to start any meditation or prayers with first a prayer of gratitude for what I do have, need, love. Second, I find selecting a playlist to fill my indoor space with music while i work often changes my mood in the same way a good run can. I know it’s not a panacea, but I wanted to share what helps me mainly because your blog is written well enough that I could feel your frustration and wanted you to know someone like me was listening, could identify (even though we did not have 6 kids!), and is sending some white light your way.
What an incredibly beautiful and helpful note, Jack. I love and appreciate every word, and can’t imagine what you’ve (and your wife) been through with cancer and the loss of your parents. But I can see and feel your grace.
Thank you so much for writing and sending you love.