Personal change (revolution really) often gets foiled by this feeling of despair that I’ll never get where I’m going.. I’ll never feel rested enough, peaceful enough.. never anything enough. How could I get there from here? But then, something simple happens:
I tell the children that Mommy needs her alone time during shower and I lock my door. I. Lock. My. Door.
–thereby granting myself this simple gift — a peaceful time for personal ablutions and reflection usually overrun with breaking up fights, answering questions, and administering begged for lipstick swaths on sweet ruby lips.
What if they’re right that it all boils down to these small moments — these very small but crucial gifts to ourselves. Showers, reading time, walks (alone) to the mailbox.. help with preparing dinner. Wouldn’t that be miraculous?
What if peace and serenity didn’t require 5 days of silent meditation, ashtanga yoga practice, and vegan diets, or vows to never lose one’s temper? What if perfection (or near-perfection) wasn’t even an approximation of what was required?
What if we all vowed to do THREE SMALL THINGS for ourselves, out of love (not guilt, or resentment, or anger or exhaustion, OR oblivion) every single day. Would you could you for yourself?
#4
I could begin with one and go from there….
Life, not just life in recovery, really DOES boil down to the small kindnesses and moments, both given to us and those we grant ourselves.
I had a hard time with all the ”activity centered” things my sister was initially involved in only because I knew at some point the ”novelty” of sobriety would wear off and there would be a stark revelation that it’s not about crafts, retreats or drum circles but it really is just about being sober every.single.day forever and ever, amen. All of those things, plus the priceless meetings, have helped her, I don’t argue that point, at all. But so has embracing her life for what it actually is and not regretting either what it used to be or could have been, if that makes any sense.
But yes, it really IS about facing life with the understanding that some days the high point will (or can) be five minutes alone in the bathroom. And that’s isn’t just ”okay” - it’s fantastic.
I would go sit on a stark white beach by myself and listen to the waves crash.
But since there are no stark white beaches in landlocked North Georgia, I have a good little Pilates habit that keeps me just about as right as I can be.
I’d stop feeling guilty for doing the things that bring me pleasure — small, simple pleasures like watching tv, or lite (aka not literature) reading. I enjoy those things, but always have to qualify them with, “I know I shouldn’t being doing this, but…” Who’s keeping score?
I would be there with Paige — the beach and the waves, I need them. That’s why it’s hard to be there with PunditGirl — I want to be the mom who jumps and plays at the beach. But I also want that time to have some quiet moments for myself. Is that so wrong?
I sit up late reading. My sleep suffers, but I need the alone time. By morning, despite my late hours, I am re-charged. (most of the time!)
I would allow myself to indulge….
Like go for a facial, a massage…
I think they are right…that it has to be the small moments. The big moments just don’t happen frequently enough to keep the spirit up.
Shit. No one told me my vegan diet was supposed to make me peaceful.
Locking doors is a good idea. Right up there with putting myself in time out for one minute for every year of my life.
I’ve got to take time for myself after the kids are asleep, usually a long peaceful run around 9 p.m., I miss sleep, but I always feel better. I also try to embrace those moments of peace within the chaos of raising a family, which are there but not always easy to find. Great post.
It took me ages to figure out that I could give myself a Mommy Time-Out by locking myself into my bedroom. And I did just that this morning, though I grant it wasn’t so much a peaceful and mindful decision but more a ridiculously childish one. Crabhubby irked me when he undercut my Mommy-authority at the table with Crabtot (who was attempting to put her food into a mini-blender filled with water!). Instead of calmly telling the tot and hub off, I just flung myself into my boudoir and locked myself in…had to unlock to slink out, though, in order to get me some Netflix.
Reading. Showering. Sleeping in. Sipping coffee on the deck, listening to the birds. Yes, you’re right; simple pleasures are the best.