Whole30 day9: grrrr

I really, really, really want a cigarette.

I'm frustrated, angry, and bored at my job and I want a break from this place and what we do here.  I want an occupation that matches my vocation (& I want some confidence as to what exactly that may be).  I want out of a sales environment.  I want in to something that engages my whole mind and my heart.  In the absence of smoking I want lollipops, M&Ms, gum...  Instead I'm grazing on pea pods.

What I'm noticing:

Yup, squelch those unruly thoughts and emotions with food.  Because there's no time or space right now to solve practical problems or dream new ways of living.  Nose to the grindstone, my time is not my own, let's see some productivity for these hours at the office.

What I'm doing:

I made a fresh cup of tea and headed out to my stoop by the butt can.  I gave myself a few moments to think my own thoughts and calm down.  One of the smoking clique members joined me and we chatted and laughed a little.  Somewhat restored, I came back in to my desk.

What's true:

Is that there are healthy and worse ways to experience emotions and thoughts, even big ones.  And I do get to choose what to do once I feel a particular feeling.  It's ok to feel it.  For me, it's good to feel it, even when it's uncomfortable.  And even in a place that feels unsupportive at times I can find my niche and nooks of security to pause for a few minutes and recognize the feelings.  Maybe jot them down to be wrangled with later.  But I can do this without hurting myself with food that does me only harm not health.  Because I want to live healthy both in regards to my feelings and to my food.

self portrait Saturday: uniform

My husband is a stay-at-home dad and a good one.  But it's impossible for us to pay all the bills on what I make as an admin at a (perpetual) start-up.  So L has picked up a part-time job at night and I have picked up a number of evenings plus the weekends solo parenting so that L can sleep while I take Little N.  It's rough.  It's very rough.  But once school starts again things will ease up, in terms of L being able to sleep during the day, so we really just need to get through two months of this.  We can do that.  

We're gradually developing our new routine of occupying Little N and providing L with a good sleeping environment.  (Also kind of rough with a small apartment.)  So Little N and I go out. A lot.  Every Saturday morning, and more times besides, we're off to the beach!  

This is me in my summer morning beach uniform of cap, turquoise T, black lightweight capris, and flip flops.  The only thing missing is my ubiquitous cup of coffee.  I'm comfy and ready for anything the sand, surf, and son send at me.

 But single-ish mom isn't the role I would have chosen for myself.  Heck, we all know by now that "Mom" wasn't my plan.  For that matter, "Admin" wasn't my plan either but it's turned out to be the most direct way that I can make money for this little family.  Much as I love our family pod, I need, and want, and get to have (really?  I hope so...) other identities and other good work in the world.

I have a new daydream of what my good work in the world may be.  It's been a long time since I've had a dream like this for myself, so I take it to mean a few things.  One, I'm getting well.  I can imagine something positive and imagine being, bringing, contributing something positive.  That's been a long time coming.  Two, I have to be brave and learn things that are new to me.  And isn't that what the Mom gig has been for me from the beginning.  I know that I can be brave.  I can learn new things.  I can fail & learn & try again.  Three, Compassion.  For others.  For myself.

But what's the new daydream?!  I don't want to jinx it.  Please wait and see as it develops and shows up here.  Wish me luck and all good things!

gratitude Sunday

L caught this photo of me & Little N this morning

Today's gratitude is books.  The big colorful ones that Little N studies and the new classics that line my summer reading list.

I've just discovered a Master's program that I would love to do.  It's called Transforming Spirituality and  it's a great fit for many of my interests.  But another graduate degree isn't viable for me and my family right now.  We just don't have the resources (time and money).

So I've started scouring the internet for ideas on what to be reading and doing instead of this degree.  I've located and printed a number of syllabi from women's spirituality courses and feminism and religion classes.  Then it was on to Goodreads and Amazon for book lists.  Finally a quick stop to the local Goodwill to see if any of my new reading material appeared on their shelves.  And a few did!

The next months, and years, will include lots of reading.  But there's more as well.  As resources become more flexible I'd like to find a spiritual director or maybe even do the SEEL program and maybe through them become trained as a spiritual director.

There's plenty of time to explore more options for direction and directing.  Mostly what I'm excited about is having some clarity about the direction and commitment I want to make.  I talked to L about this plan and he was engaged and supportive.  Not because this is his sort of interest, it's not.  But because it is a good match for what I'm about and what we as a family can support in a real way - that still engages me.  I'm not on pause.  I'm on "diy."  And it feels pretty good.

clarity

Lately I've been forgetting that I wanted to be working part-time and home more with Little N.  Things are busy, complex, and stressful at the office and I feel out of the loop and only half informed as a part-time employee.  I also find that I miss being with adults all day and that I get some pride, or at least satisfaction, in the work I've done.  Plus, part-time work was supposed to provide a little time alone for me, to read and write and to figure out my next steps professionally.  But Little N's schedule erased any chance for that.  So what am I doing?

at the zoo

My yoga practice has given me a way to work with this question.  At the start of each session we set an intention for our practice.  Mine has been "clarity."  That one word has made a difference for me.  The yoga opened my mind and my body to see something more true than the rush and needs of the office.  The intention of clarity shone a light on what and who is most important to me, enjoyable, and fulfilling for me right now. 

What I'm doing is being with Little N in a simple and real way, which I wasn't able to do when he was a baby.  Postpartum depression sent me running back to the adult world of the office as soon as maternity leave ended.  Now I feel like I have a second chance and more time to cultivate a mother son relationship; we're bonding.  

We have good moments and draining hours, like every mother and son.  It's not easy, getting to know and learn this little person.  But it is good.  And when he calls for me, "Mommy, come hold my hand."  "Mommy, come over here and play with Little N."  "Mommy, come sit with Little N right there."  I'm starting to think, "He's not always going to want me right there.   I'm not always going to be right here to hold his hand."  I might sigh or tell him to wait a minute, but I usually stop what I'm in the middle of and go be with him.  And I usually remember that it's what I wanted to be doing in the first place.    

weirdo (me)

My husband explained to me this morning that I'm a weirdo.   I was fair game since I say similar things to him more frequently than would be considered nice.  (He describes himself as, "the hard stuff is easy and the easy stuff is hard."  I describe that as weird - and so frustrating!)

We were chatting about the fabulous job at the fabulous company that I quit after three months this summer because it was not a fabulous fit for me.  The CEO there told me that he thought I was a star.  So why didn't it feel like a good fit?  Why didn't I feel like a star?  Where the heck is my good fit?

L described me as really strong in some areas and really weak in other areas that are not normal.  As in, "weirdly shy and apprehensive about normal things, like driving."  And it all adds up to a… quirky? person who doesn't exactly fit in.  A weirdo.

From L's point of view,  where he's seen me shine has been in particular pieces of writing I've done in the last several years.  That's your strength, he told me.  That's what you should be doing.  

It would seem that the only thing left, is to do it.  

read my mind

I slipped over to the library yesterday for some quiet time to journal and write while L & Baby napped. It's always a tough choice for me: do I nap too or do I need these little snatches of alone-time more than I need sleep? This weekend I needed a comfy chair, my laptop & notebooks - and I needed to be someplace else.

The book on the top of this stack caught my eye as soon as I settled into my chair. Let's just say those 2 little words "women's moods" speak volumes for the emotional cattle wrestling that's occupied the last 20 years of my life. I made a note to check it out when I was done writing and focused on my work, but occasionally a flicker in the corner of my eye made me turn to look at the book. (At one point I even leaned out of my chair to make sure I'd read the title correctly.)

I was almost done when a couple of women passed the shelf where this book sat beaming at me. Gasp! I watched them (subtly, I hope). If the book was still there when they moved on I'd grab it.

It was! One swift (graceful?) lunge and it was mine.
Sigh.

But once I was up I felt another book that called my name, & another, & another...

Joyful Girl

i wonder if everything i do
i do instead
of something i want to do more
the question fills my head
i know that there's no grand plan here
this is just the way it goes
and when everything else seems unclear
i guess at least i know

i do it for the joy it brings...

in 3's

pastor asked us today
"what is your ministry?"

the consultant at work wants to discuss my
"personal growth plan"

and I recently woke from a dream compelled to
"tell the story"

3 good things (of which 1 is a poopy diaper)

True to my word, I packed up Baby N and went to church this morning.  While we were there I observed 3 good things:

1. Acceptance, support, gentleness, comforting, sharing - as the community gathered around Sweet Miss K whose mother died a few weeks ago.  Her mom was only recently diagnosed with cancer and we had such hopes that she would prevail.  Sweet Miss K is somewhat fragile, even at her best, so the sudden loss of her mother is such a great grief.  K entered the sanctuary this morning and immediately started sobbing.  "I should leave," I overheard her say to the woman she was sitting with.  "No dear, everyone here knows, everyone here loves you.  Stay."  I held Baby N on my lap and my tears let down like milk.

2. Several folks extended the comfort of telling Sweet Miss K that her mother was in a much better place, she was with Jesus.  K cried back, "But where does that leave me?  I'm so sad.  I miss her so much."  AMEN  Sweet Miss K is so brave to tell the truth about grief.  It's not about who we've lost, they're the lucky ones, it's about us left here without them.  How are we supposed to endure the loss when the one who has always helped us through is the one that we've lost?  The comforters should know better than to offer flimsy facades.  Grief won't be covered up; it will make itself known.  Better to face it truthfully (and in good company).

3. Baby N delivered a massive, stinking diaper 30 minutes into the service.  Fortunately, we had already removed ourselves to the Family Room adjacent to the sanctuary.  I cleaned him up and we stayed put for the rest of the service.  I'm grateful for the refuge of that little room.  I love these people.  I love seeing them support K.  I love the altar piled high with goods for the food bank.  But I chafe & writhe & start gnawing the furniture in reaction to so much of Christian religion.  The hymns are loaded with words & concepts that I reject - "blood" that saves, "I am your son" with no alternatives ever, and a sermon about God shining through the holes in our lives, shredded by loss & trauma... and while that may be true & I might even accept it in an intimate conversation, from the pulpit it sounded canned, like a sound bite.  

I lay back on the floor of the Family Room while Baby N played with the toys there.  They built this little room when we started attending.  It was dedicated as part of N's dedication service.  I'm struggling to reconcile the community that I value with the religion that I reject.  I'm holding tightly to the compassion they show to each other and to the folks in our neighborhood.  I'm holding tightly to the stories they share of God's presence in their lives.  I'm trying to respect and understand their regard for the religion.  

The religion gets in the way for me. As it has for years.  In the past, I've allowed that obstruction to keep me outside the community of believers.  But I want to be able to move in and out:

1) I want a personal practice that centers & sustains me; 

2) I want kindreds with whom to share frustration, creativity, challenges, study, celebration...; 

3) I want to be part of the broader faith community, to hear the good they draw from the religion, to celebrate and grieve with them, to be loved among them, to be included even though I believe differently, to share some of the presence I meet and the good I draw from my faith.

good grief

I read an newspaper article last night about a boy, Sam, in the foster care system here. Sam's mom wasn't able to take care of him, but because the system is committed to reuniting birth families, he was repeatedly returned to her following episodes of abuse and neglect.

At three years old Sam was moved to a foster home, and then another, and endured abuse, and was moved again, and then again... You see where this is going. By the time he was nine years old he was diagnosed with attachment disorder and had developed severe behavioral problems.

The system did this to him. They were supposed to be protecting him and instead they perpetrated all kinds of offenses against him - the kinds of offenses that a kid absorbs into who he is, what he believes about himself, his worth & abilities. According to the article:

Sam is one of 13 current and former foster children whose guardians have brought a civil lawsuit against the Department of Social and Health Services alleging that the state failed to provide stable homes or adequate treatment after removing them from their birth families.

The article was posted in 1999 so Sam is now a 21 year old man. Did the lawsuit do any good? Initiate any changes in the system? Was anyone able to reach & support & truly foster Sam?

The story has broken my heart. I can't think about the little boy Sam without crying. For the first time in my life (because I am a mother now?), I think of him & the other kids in foster care as our kids. The responsibility and the family of the adults in every town where these kids live. Now what do I do with that conviction?

Immediately - I can pray; I can support the couple of families that I know that have adopted kids from foster care.

Long term - I need to do some homework; maybe there's volunteering or fundraising or clothing and toy drives; maybe there's other, more direct ways, for me to respond to the good grief that this story has moved in me.

green with you-know-what

Envy.

I've been reading some of my favorite blogs and through them finding new ones that interest me. They are by smart, creative, women. They make art, or crafts, they share beautiful photos of their homes and their creations, they write books and articles, they muse on ideas that are significant to them. They pose challenges and delights.

And my skin starts to prickle, my heart pounds, heat rises up my neck into my face, and a sour taste smacks the back of my throat and nose.

I'm jealous. Oh Good God I'm Jealous.

I take a deep breath. Click out of the site. And think about it. What do these women have that I want? Or, what do I imagine that they have that I want? Often I don't actually want exactly what someone else has but rather something I see in them stirs desires deferred in my own life.

I want beauty in my life.
I want to write well and for my words to be read.
I want connection with other lives.
I want to create pieces with beauty and significance.
I want evidence of meaning.

The last one lands hard in my gut. More than the others, that is what I perceive in these blogs that I... don't perceive in my life? As if maybe they have a faith I've relinquished. As if in their blogs, through the thoughts they pose & the items they take the time to make & the community of readers they interact with, they bear witness to something I've lost touch with. (the madwoman)

perfect it ain't

"Perfectionism has nothing to do with getting it right. It has nothing to do with fixing things. It has nothing to do with standards. Perfectionism is a refusal to let yourself move ahead."

"[A]t a certain point you let go and call it done. That is a normal part of creativity--letting go. We always do the best we can by the light we have to see by."

Cameron, Julia. The artist's way. New York: Putnam. 2002. p. 119 & 120

the j-o-b

I think the job is getting to me.

It's time to start looking for a new job. That means preparing my headspace as much as updating my resume. The headspace work will help in the short term as well. Having something to work for, to look forward to, may supplement my motivation and energy. Several weeks ago, I posted two little reminders on my monitor (see above) to help me keep perspective and be a me that I like while I'm at work.

"Imagine" is about looking ahead. What would I like to do? to learn? What do I need to be able to support our family? What good might I bring where I am today? Who do I want to be and how do I want to live?

"Hush" is, primarily, about refraining from gossip. As I read more about spiritual disciplines I start to understand another kind of silence, an inner silence that I don't have. A silence that grants an opening for God.

I've been failing both of my reminder words lately. Noticing them in this photograph brought them to the front of my mind, even as they are in front of my face all day. I'm remembering them, tonight, and I hope the meaning will be as fresh and relevant by mid-morning tomorrow.