Letting go - Part 3 (A moment of surrender)

After 35 years of getting to know myself, I would consider myself someone with a type B personality.  Fairly laid back, go with the flow... not someone who pushes time or schedules or (subsequently) arrives on time to most places.  There is something about becoming a parent that has turned me into more of a time-keeper.  There is this inherent focus on schedules, as we move into the role of caring for babies and children.  The importance of routine.  And there is something else, too, which I think can be categorized as this need to be in control as a parent, to accomplish the demands and responsibilities that this role requires.  You always hear how consistent discipline and structure are good for kids... which for the most part, I think is true.  And as parents, we become the discipline-rs and the structure keepers.  It is our JOB, to create a sturdy frame within which children can grow and develop and flourish. 

And it can be challenging, because children rarely want to keep a schedule or a routine.  They've got THINGS to do, and their OWN time frame that they want to do them in. 

Hazel and I took a walk around the neighborhood recently, on a warm sunny day.  If you've ever taken a walk with a two-year old, you know how not relaxing/stress-inducing this can be.  Mostly it involves lots of stopping to inspect rocks and tree branches and bugs, and constantly intervening when said two-year old tries to run into the street or pick the neighbor's flowers or run up to knock on other people's doors or hang out on their front stoop.  We were already behind schedule on this particular day, as we typically are.  But Hazel really wanted to go outside, so we went for a quick stroll (ha) so she could enjoy the nice weather and we could avoid a tantrum. 

As the "quick stroll" turned into a long-winded full blown nature adventure, I found myself getting more and more frustrated.  Rushing her along more and more.  "We still have to fix and eat lunch, and then change her diaper, and then read books, and then put her down for a late nap, which will mess things up at bedtime...."  These were the thoughts running through my head.  I felt like I was pushing and pushing, and it was quite ineffective.  Like trying to squish a giant ball of slime into a tiny box.  The more I pushed, the more Hazel wanted to wander along.  And eventually, she just sat in the grass and started picking dandelions, one of her new favorite things to do.

We've been in this situation many many times before.  And sometimes, after I've given her the 5 minute/3 minute/1 minute warnings and she still refuses to come willingly, I pick her up and carry her inside. Sometimes screaming and crying... sometimes not.  Being super pregnant, my feet hurt and my back ached.  I was physically tired from all the standing and walking and redirecting, and I was mentally tired from trying to coax and push and rush Hazel to get back home.  And I really didn't feel like picking her up and carrying a screaming 28-pound girl all that way back. 

So I dropped the fight, mostly from sheer exhaustion, and I plopped myself down in that grass with her.  And what I felt in that moment was remarkable.

I felt immediate relief.  I felt almost weightless, like a huge burden had been lifted.  I felt a swelling of peace.  Hazel beamed, and said "Mommy sit down!"  She picked dandelions and then handed them to me so I could blow away all the quills into the warm, spring breeze.  I noticed, for the first time, how full and green the grass looked and how comforting the rays of sun felt on my arm.  I watched Hazel, and I really saw her.  I saw the delight and the contentment on her face.  I saw how her hair moved, across her sweet sturdy shoulders as she reached for another flower to pick.  We didn't say much... and that was okay.  I had instantly moved from the spinning, pushing thoughts in my head, to a sensory awareness of all that surrounded me.  We sat there for some time.  I'm not sure how long.  And it didn't really matter.

I was more relaxed than I had been in a long time.  Because I decided, in that moment, to let go.

I've been thinking a lot, in the last several years of my life, how important it is to let go from time to time.  We live in a society that thrives on busy - thrives on the constant push of life.  We love, and sometimes even NEED, to be in control - to accomplish and achieve and organize and produce.  To check off our to do lists, and multitask and juggle.  But in spite of all this striving... in spite of all that we achieve in a day, do we really feel at peace? 

I think real peace comes in these moments of surrender.

These moments, when we move out of our minds and into our bodies.  Into our senses.  Into what is happening around us, as it is happening.  When we let go of our attachment to how we think things ought to be, or to an outcome we think we have to achieve.  When we surrender our own will, to the will of the present.  There is so much beauty to be felt and to be seen in it...  so much that we often miss, when we grasp the reigns too tightly and fight to manage it all.  

All things considered, I know this isn't always easy.  But it was a memorable day for me, as my two-year old guided me and taught me about the art and the importance of surrender.  Of letting go of our schedule and our routine and all that I thought we needed...  to experience something so much greater. 

I hope to always carry this moment with me as a reminder, to let go when something greater calls. 

"The greatness of a man's power is the measure of his surrender."  ~William Booth

Why Pinterest and I aren't friends

So we strive for perfection in the areas in which we can control, and that isn't necessarily what provides contentment and joy for ourselves, and more importantly, for our children. 

~Sarah Jessica Parker

I woke up on Sunday, March 17th this year, and logged onto Facebook.  It was a sea of green. The overwhelming majority of posts I were seeing had to do with St. Patrick's Day (which I had totally forgotten about. Oops.).   St. Patty's Day clothes and decorations and parties and holiday-inspired foods for kids... links to Pinterest all over.   I was pretty sure that I had failed miserably at being a mom-type person because I forgot that the holiday even existed.  I literally said to my husband, "Are we bad parents because we didn't make green eggs and shamrock-shaped pancakes and hide a pot of gold for Hazel today?"  

Valentine's Day is pretty much the same for me.  So much hype.  So much consumerism.  I just don't get into it.  And there is a real pressure that I feel from society today, that I should really be getting into it.   Everyone is doing it!  You are not a good mom or wife or sister or daughter or friend, if you don't do it all.  If you don't buy cards for everyone and decorate everything and make your own holiday-themed treats.  Blahhhh.  Bah hum bug.  Somewhere in my mind, I seem to associate the plethora of holidays and the celebrations of said holidays with Pinterest, as they seem to reinforce each other or feed off of each other or give each other reasons to exist.

I've been an avid Pinterest avoider, basically since it came on the scene.  I've never really been good at crafty-type things, or decorating, or cute, stylish home improvements.  I took an art therapy course in grad school.  I felt like I was having a major crisis, because I realized that I can't draw, and I am basically horrible at creating visual art.  "Why didn't they do a better job of teaching us to draw in elementary school!!  I can't communicate/express anything through this medium!!"  These were the thoughts running through my head.  It was very frustrating and NON-therapeutic for me.  I digress.

The only thing that I think I could get into with Pinterest are the recipes.  I DO like food.  I like making food.  And I like getting access to new ideas on making food and good recipes for food-making/creating.  I do not really care to make food that looks like cars, or trains, or animals, or people.  I like food that tastes good, and looks like food.

Don't get me wrong - I have no problem with people out there who love Pinterest, or are inclined in this way.  Or who love to make cute, fun, crafty-type things.  I secretly admire people with these talents and skills, because I don't possess them at all.  But there is SOMEthing about the whole Pinterest thing (or maybe what it represents) that really bugs me.  And after thinking it through, I think it might have something to do with these two ideas:

1)  Real life is not cute, or tidy, or neatly color coordinated.   Life is so often messy, imperfect, and doesn't fit into pretty gold boxes.   Life hangs out over the side of that pretty box, and paint gets smeared/smudged, and the icing on that delightful bunny cake melts.  The cute bunny tail ends up looking more like poop.  Whether we like it or not. (Pinterest fail boards?  There are many). Something about Pinterest feels like pretending.  It takes me back to the ideas/image-conscious culture of the 1950s, where women had to be all, do all, look amazing at all times, and never complain.  ICKY.  This may be a stretch, but something in my brain draws this link... from that era (which we have come so far from), to a whole different culture today in a technology-centric world, and a website where everything is perfect and amazing and shows you how to organize your life in neat color-coded boxes.  Where you can get ideas to throw the BEST, most perfect birthday party for your child, with the cutest party favors and matching decor ideas and matching food.   It's nice, but it's just not real life to me.

2)  There is too much pressure to do too much, that doesn't really MEAN enough.    
This idea is not directly linked to Pinterest itself, but is related.  For me, I want to focus on being emotionally present and available for my children.  I want to make sure that their basic needs of food, shelter, affection and love are provided for, to the best of my ability.  I want to teach them and guide them, discipline them, and also learn how to let them go... as they grow away from me into independence, little by little every day.  These things fill my mind and my heart to the brim.  And most of the time, I am overwhelmed by these tasks.  These joys and weights of being a parent.  And I just don't think we need the expectation to do more - like throwing the perfect birthday party or holiday party or creating the best Easter basket - in order to feel like good parents.  It's all just too much.  And what does it really mean?  Sometimes we can get caught up in/distracted by the hoopla... and it's possible that we neglect other things in the process.  Things that I think are more important in the grand scheme of it all.

I'm all about reveling in the imperfect, in this phase of my life.  About embracing my messes and flaws and learning to accept myself for who I am.  About trying to release this unnecessary pressure to be more than I am.  Some days, I strive to keep my head above water... to keep myself and my family well and functioning.  Some days are hard.  Some days are beautiful.  Some days are relaxed.  Some days are mind-numbingly tedious.  And most days are a mixture of it all.  But this is the life that I seek - to live in the nitty gritty, authentic moment.  To take it all in... to feel truly alive and awakened to all that is real.

Not to seek perfection in anything, but to seek acceptance and love in everything.

All things considered, this is why Pinterest and I aren't friends.  For now.  I realize that I haven't really given her a chance.  Maybe someday I will change my tune.  But this is my take for the time being.

The fact of storytelling hints at fundamental human unease, hints at human imperfection.  Where there is perfection, there is no story to tell.  ~Ben Okri