Love Bomb! - Part 2

On my oldest son's 16th birthday we presented him with a bundle of letters from friends and family. The letters had been written in the weeks after he was born and expressed the hopes and dreams and pure joy that his life set into motion.  Reading the Love Bombs! encouraged my son to present me with a similar gift on my birthday. My birthday present was a green sparkly box filled with little slips of paper. On each slip he had written some of the things that he thought were proof of my awesomeness.  He told me that it was a box of reminders for those days when I was doubting myself.  I'm not writing this to brag, in fact the opposite is true.  My birthday was in May and it took me three months later to open the box.  Trust me, it wasn't a lack of self doubt or negative self talk, that kept me from seeking out the affirmations.

As I read his notes I was struck by the disconnect. The thoughts I have about myself and the ones that he felt compelled to celebrate were at odds. This I think is a universal truth. Whether it's good or bad, our perception of ourselves is almost always different, in part at least, than what our friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors think of us.  Take some of the reactions I had to my love bomb slips:

You inspired both of your sons to start committed gym schedules. Why did I sleep in today and miss the gym?

You have the talent of being able to interact peacefully and productively with difficult people. Why can't I have better relationships with_____?

You is kind, you is smart, and you is important.  This makes me smile because I love the reference and then a little twinge because I know that I need this reminder every day.

People have religious experiences when eating your Christmas cookies. Ok, some perceptions are just basic facts that can't be debated.

You make a commitment to stay in close contact with your friends, whether it be a breakfast date or on the phone. When was the last time that I called...?

You started a blog which is cool. I can't believe how long it's been since I wrote anything.

You've got some mad ping pong skills. True, so true.

Yellow Sticky Love Note #4 (Photo credit: madlyinlovewithlife)

So why did I wait three months to open this amazing box of affirmations? Why did I actively avoid positive words of encouragement when I was feeling down? Once I opened the box, why couldn't I just read the notes and absorb the sentiments without any counter commentary? Why do we cling to the things that are still in progress, the flaws, the small imperfections? The fact that we are imperfect is not the big news. Imperfect people creating beauty, acting with kindness, supporting others, teaching, and working in spite of their deficits, that's what's amazing. Drop a couple of love bombs today.  Drop one on yourself too and then be quiet.

My Spring Break

A little over  a week ago I did a very unusual and wonderful thing.  I took a vacation, by myself, to a place with palm trees.  I've never gone on a real spring break where you dip your toes in the surf and reacquaint yourself with the sun, in the middle of a midwest winter. (Except, I realize, just last year.)  In practice, it felt  decadent and fabulous and left me with just a few moments of guilt pangs.  The guilt over leaving my children and spouse behind in relentlessly grey Chicago, was overcome by my complete rejuvenation.  Who knew that natural vitamin D could change your attitude so much!?                                                                                                                                

All of my little concerns and frustrations remain but now I have the memory of a brilliant sunset, palm trees and pink succulents to balance out my funk.  I learned that sometimes it is good to just runaway and get a new perspective.  I remembered that when I take care of myself, everybody in my life ends up reaping the benefits and there's no guilt in that! Spoiling myself a little, surrounding myself with dear friends and taking a break from my normal responsibilities was exactly what I needed for a "reboot" to occur in me.




Take some time today for yourself. Really. Figure out a way to put yourself first.  One of my awesome days included a drive to San Diego, a bowl of margueritas with girlfriends, a palm reading from a psychic and a gorgeous drive watching the sunset. Mixed in was uninterrupted talks, gorgeous scenery and dark chocolate. We are all worth it. Whoever helps take care of people deserves to be cared for in return.  Do it!

You're Hot!

English: YMCA logo (international and USA) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My son started going to the gym.  He's never been super interested in sports unless you count marathon reading.  For the last month though he has taken his bike out every day.  For the last two weeks he's taken that bike to the YMCA and worked out every evening after school. On top of that he went through another growth spurt that left him with chiseled lines.  Any faint remnants of baby fat are stripped from his face, leaving a strong chin and dramatic cheekbones.

Every night he returns from the Y and talks me through his improvement. 5 pull ups, then 10, 12, today 20!  "I can do 30 minutes on the treadmill now!"  He has biceps all of the sudden and a two pack.  I am stunned at the quick progress and physical changes and yes, tremendously jealous.  Why doesn't my weight lifting produce such easy results?  Is there such thing as a negative metabolism rate? Anyway, my child, just weeks away from his 16th birthday, is looking more like a man.

The kicker.  He comes home yesterday after getting a haircut.  The thick sweep of hair was gone. In it's place was a near buzz cut with just enough extra on top to style and look a little daring. I couldn't help myself. I saw him and said, "You look hot! You're like a model."  I know that probably wasn't the best mom reaction but damn if it wasn't true.  All of the pieces are starting to fall into place.  The muscles and haircut are forcing the reality down my throat - my boy is growing up. I'm in awe that he is a part of me.  Every day he's looking and acting more like his own person, borderline foreign to me. I've always known that he was of course. Adolescence is just so intense (and not just for the teens). It's like seeing the color red in all it's beauty and then panning out and seeing that it's not a swatch of red but a full bouquet of roses. A gorgeous, cut, bouquet.

Dropping Out

Olympics (Photo credit: ClaraDon)

In a sad and ironic turn of events, the Olympics have me in a serious couch potato slump.  I'm blaming Michael Phelps and Gabby Douglas for my lethargic, zombie-like state.  Their super powers apparently include mass hypnosis.  Part of the problem is that I stay up way too late watching and then hit the snooze button way too long the next morning, routinely blowing through the "go to the gym" window. The other issue is more psychological and not very fun to admit.

I watch the events slack jawed, staring in disbelief half of the time.  These people are incredible, how inspiring!  There is another part of me that watches the elite athletes and thinks, "who have I been kidding?"  My little attempts at gym membership and activity, even on my best weeks, pales in comparison to these machines.  I am better suited for score keeping than scoring.  It is this voice of self deprecation that keeps me staring at the tv late into the night and boycotting my local YMCA during these games.  Terrible irony but true (at least partially).

In less than a week the real truth will emerge.  The Olympics will end and not come around for another four years, in part because super human acts of strength, agility, balance, and speed can not be sustained endlessly without rest and training.  The rest of us mortals will return to our routines.  I'll leave the viewing stands of my couch and hop on the spinning bike, imagining Michael and Gabby cheering me on.

Caring Enough to Take Care

Bowl of Chocolate Ice Cream! (Photo credit: StephenMitchell)

My morning meditation book talked about self-care today.  Hah!  How timely seeing how I spent the entire weekend in a bath of self-loathing and personal disappointment.  An internal message loop ran, "Stop eating junk.  Go to the gym, you're a slug."  A string of other negative assessments ran rampant. I would listen to the voice inside for a little while and then go to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream.

On  days like that, where I just can't seem to muster enough energy to tackle my "to do" list or prepare any food that requires more creativity than the flip of my wrist as I open a prepared package, I start to think seriously about our primal nature.  Am I more than just a clump of cells interacting with the lunar cycles? I don't know.

Stuart Smalley (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In those moments it feels like I have very little control over myself, my surroundings, or my larger world.  I lose sight of my personal power.  A ton of things can be going wrong, I can be in a general malaise, or worse case scenario, the zombie apocalypse could finally arrive and I will still have the power to care for myself.  It may not be all the things that I need at the moment but I can do some thing.  Getting out of my head counts as a "thing".  Talking to a friend or doing something that I enjoy counts as a "thing".  Eating a bowl of ice cream can be a "thing", as long as you don't beat yourself up about it afterwards.  We all know the bottom line is that we have to care enough to take care of ourselves.  We have to care less about what we "should" be doing/feeling/accomplishing and care more about ourselves.  I know this is probably sounding more and more like a Stuart Smalley seminar ("I'm good enough.  I'm smart enough.  And gosh darn it, people like me!").  Well gosh darn it, people do like me and yet I still need the reminder to take care and be nice to myself.  It's as important as all the other things on my "to do" list.

A Time for Everything

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven— A time to give birth and a time to die;          A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted. A time to kill and a time to heal;          A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to weep and a time to laugh;          A time to mourn and a time to dance. A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;          A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing. A time to search and a time to give up as lost;          A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;          A time to be silent and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate;          A time for war and a time for peace.- Ecclesiastes 3 Image via Wikipedia Regardless of our religious beliefs, the words from Ecclesiastes are common sense type wisdom.  Good and bad times will come and go.  We hope for more of the good than bad but have less control than we would like over the reality of that balance.  There are many things that we can control though.  Is it time for us to love? Or throw away? Heal or plant?  Is it time to give up something as lost? To speak? For me right now, I have to remember that I can't move through the world in one set gear.  I need to let go in some parts of my life and embrace in others.  Mostly I need to make enough space so that I can sit and reflect a little, every once in awhile.  Awareness needs to be cultivated, it doesn't just appear.

Giving Up Shame, Not Guilt

Today is Ash Wednesday and as a former Catholic, it holds a lot of memories for me.  Many of my ideas about the Lenten season that leads up to Easter are expressed pretty well in this article on what people give up for Lent.  What I'm really thinking about though, is the guilt that often comes with religious practice.  If you are Christian, you know the question, "What are you giving up for Lent?"  There's really no reason to ask the question unless you want to evaluate somebody else's spiritual life.  Sometimes the interactions in religious settings leave people saying that they feel guilt or shame.

Now, I'm speaking from my own little head and heart here.  I'm not checking the dictionary or theological texts.  To me, guilt is good.  Guilt is the real outcome that results when someone is in relationship with another or committed to a set of values and beliefs and falls short of their own intentions.  For example, if I say something carelessly, or don't take time to really listen, or eat a ton of Girl Scout cookies (just a random example), or don't stop for a pedestrian in the crosswalk, I feel some guilt.  My intentions for myself are that I care for the people that are in my life, I care for myself and my health, and I care about being a good citizen.  My guilt is the little twinge that helps me remember to do better next time.

The problem is that instead of allowing ourselves to have healthy guilt we way too often dip into shame.  Again, from my own little head and heart, shame serves no purpose except to put people down and limit them.  Guilt says, "Why did you do that?  That's not who you are.  Make it right."  Shame says, "It sucks to be you.  Too bad you have to be so unacceptable, unlovable, (fill in the ick here)."  Unfortunately, I think we've all experienced shame at some point and it really leaves a mark.  The trap is that we sometimes avoid making any critical comments to ourselves or our loved ones, including children, because we don't want to leave that scar.  Not holding ourselves accountable or our children accountable, to our values is no good.

The reality is that being honest about mistakes, falling short and then owning it is good.  Having expectations for ourselves and our kids means that we believe that there is inherent goodness in them/us. It means that we want healthy relationships and strong connections and we want to learn how to "make it right" when it gets broken.  If you want to have a spiritual practice this Lent, think about your core values (related to God, your family, the Earth, whatever) and the thing(s) you can do to bring yourself back to who you really are.  That's some good guilt.

Forever

I started this writing project as a creative outlet.  Thoughts and ideas were swirling in my head and I was tired of hearing really great people beat themselves up so much.  I felt like I had something to say about being kind to ourselves as parents.  The title is meant to hint at the persistent scrutiny that we tend to impose on ourselves. 

Here's my observation to date.  After only four days of writing, there is an overwhelming response of concern from my friends (which I appreciate).  The comment is some variation of, "Don't feel like you have to write everyday.  It doesn't have to be a permanent thing."  I don't think this is just them responding to me and my unique personality traits - at least not completely.

I think they are responding to a way too common tendency of women or parents or people in general (I'm not sure if women or parents have a monopoly on this trait) to be harsh critics of themselves.  Is it impossible to take on a creative project simply for the enjoyment of doing it?  Will I beat myself up if I skip a day or a week or a month?  If no one follows this blog, will it be enough to do this just for myself?  You know what I'm talking about.  We find compelling reasons to put ourselves second, third, or even last.  We find ourselves too exhausted to do the very things that invigorate us.  And when we do take time for ourselves we too quickly start criticizing our effort and dump guilt on ourselves (I could have worked out longer, I should have done this sooner, I really ought to be doing some other thing right now...).

My challenge to you and for myself is to do something that is calling to you, nagging at you maybe.  Don't worry about whether you will keep up with it forever.  Do something for yourself and enjoy it in the moment.  Forever is just lots of moments strung together.