Friday, May 11, 2012

Another Use for The List

I'm feeling crappy lately. There are various reasons why, some external, some internal. Some I have control over, some I don't. You've been there too right? We've all been there, we all pass by there, see others there, get stuck there and it's ok to be there...just not for too long, right?

All the worrisome thoughts swirling around in my head is like trash in the stream - floating, sinking, getting stuck, getting unstuck only to get stuck again... If I pick up all the trash and put it in it's place (recycle bin, garbage can, compost, wash some of it off (maybe it's not all trash), offer it back to it's owner) the stream will be bright, clean and clear. That's how I want to feel, bright, clean and clear. And while I'm at it, I want to see the bottom of the stream. I can feel it but right now that's not enough, I want to see it...

What to do...? All the stuff that's swirling around in my head needs to take a rest. Stop. If not forever, just for a moment. Actually, I know I'm the one who needs to take a rest and stop. I'm the force behind the swirling and pushing anyways.

I'm going to make a list. Pick each piece up, write it down, address it, put it where it belongs and then take a rest. Sometimes I take a problem and double, triple, quadruple it, inflate it, stack it onto other troubles and then worry about it, without even realizing. Sounds tiring, right? Well, it is. Sometimes I don't even know why I'm so upset or bothered. Sometimes I do.

But please don't worry or feel sorry for me. I'll be ok. Off to grab a pen, paper and maybe a match to burn the list afterwards...

A Reminder by Karen Maezen Miller - How do you Mother Yourself? I don't think you need to give birth to children to be a mother...Happy Mother's Day.

The following excerpt from Karen Maezen Miller's website:

how do you mother yourself?

May 9th, 2012
I have asked for only one thing for this Mother’s Day: blue-and-white kitchen towels. I don’t expect to get them. My requests often go unheard. But it begs the question:why don’t I buy my own damn kitchen towels? And that reminds me to reprint this post from the archives, and to wish you a happy day.
One of the first readers of Momma Zen, by my timid invitation, was a middle-aged single gay man who had no interest or experience in parenting but a keen eye for content.
“This is about parenting yourself, right?” he concluded after a quick flip through the pages.
I agreed as if I knew. As if that very insight had guided my hand.
But those aren’t the kind of insights that illumine the daily life of a mother when the process is so totally involved with the continuous operation of a malfunctioning bundle, so wholly immersed in behavior management of a toddling monster or a moody teen.
We don’t see our lives clearly when we live it as though it has an external object and outcome. Judging it as if it is a foregone conclusion or – what if? – a looming failure.
Yet how we mother our children can never be anything other than how we mother ourselves, because it is all one life. So my question is not how you parent the people you undoubtedly love the most, but rather, how do you mother yourself? Because there are not two ways.
Are you kind and forgiving?
Do you give yourself quiet attention?
Permission to play?
Discipline to work?
The confidence to do things by yourself?
Are you honest with yourself?
Do you encourage yourself to go outside?
To take a breath?
To try again?
To take risks?
To be silly?
Are you hurrying toward some imagined milestone?
Do you undermine yourself with constructive criticisms?
Are you undisturbed by your apparent lack of progress?
Are you tender, careful and trusting with yourself?
Do you comfort fears, or magnify them?
Do you nourish yourself?
Laugh at yourself?
Smile in greeting each day?
Do you abandon yourself to preoccupations with the past?
Do you make new friends and forgive the old?
Do you allow that the world is entirely your own and encourage self-mastery?
Do you sleep when tired and eat when hungry?
Take a bath and splash?
Do you let yourself rant and cry for no good reason and then coax yourself back into the familiar cushion of your very own lap?
Do you tell yourself you are a wonderful mother and a beautiful daughter? Then let me be the first, and not the last.
How do you mother yourself?
A printable copy of this post is available here.

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