Last night I lay on the couch as the lights turned off, and i looked out the window.
The bright light from the moon was illuminating the clouds which were hurried along by high winds. The clouds, clustered together like little rushing sheep, were so white and bright it seemed like daylight in an alternate universe.
My automatic response to the darkness was to get up and go to bed, but i encouraged myself to lay back and just relax and be present in what felt like a little bit of easily-missed magic.
This season has been challenging for me.
My body has firmly planted its heels in the ground and dares me to continue down the path of “figuring it out” see previous years of posting for health back story.
Spoiler alert! I feel that i’m in the same state I’ve been for at least 3 years .
I’ve declared that I will accept where i am now, and pour love into all the bumps and shapes and tones that she has to offer.
I’ve gently tried to go back to what seemed to benefit her in the past.
I’ve rested.
I’ve moved.
Still, here we are.
My mental and emotional state have me feeling like I’m on the hero’s journey.
It’s as if the last two years have been the culmination of a life’s worth of training for the big boss battle (for any fellow gaming nerds out there). To defeat this boss requires infinite lives, the ability to step away and come back, and maybe some googling to find out the secret.
I drown, i swim, i come up for air, i go back under.
I’m trying all the tactics i know to not get so exhausted i just stop trying.
(and that’s not even really including the effects of a global pandemic, though how can we separate this from that.)
People keep telling me to give myself a little grace.
Rationally i know what this means, i say this to other people and i think I’m helpful and empathetic.
When i try to give myself grace i feel like I’m in the woods with no path. I could go in any direction!
Do we rest? Or is movement a more graceful, loving choice?
Do we order pizza? Or is a salad a more graceful and loving choice (knowing my physical health history).
Do we stay home? Or is (safe) socializing a more graceful and loving choice?
Like i literally do not know.
My instincts have me hermit-ing. My song has been largely silent. I try to imagine myself as 6yo me, as 14yo me*...
They have the most to say. I sit with them, i tell them they’re safe with me, and I’m in charge now, that they can relax. This helps some, is soothing. I put on music from the 90s and sing along, i order an old favorite treat for lunch, i sit with 14yo me and i listen.
I listen to her say she’s so mad and scared and that it feels like no one can help her. I tell her that i know. It’s ok to feel that way, that she can relax because I’m here now. I’m a grown up, and i promise to take care of her. She will never again be awake in the middle of the night with anxiety, and feel scared and alone. She may wake up scared, but i promise her that every second she is awake, I will always be awake. I will always be with her to make sure she’s ok, and she can feel scared as long as she needs. That seems to be enough to satisfy her for now.
She goes back to her snack and Cranberries album, and skips to the songs she prefers.
I know she’s been disappointed, but she’s developed amazing skills of resourcefulness to cope with this feeling of “un-safe-ness”. She will become good at almost everything she ever tries, she will avoid confrontation. She will try to dim her light a little so she’s never too much for anyone, but it somehow always escape its container, spilling though the cracks. Over time, she’ll learn to curate her chosen family, to please others less, to care more and reserve energy for the ones who emphatically love her at her weirdest. But it’s hard to unlearn that first response. It’s a stark realization, the fear and the sadness that comes when you first learn that the only person who can ever truly be there for you, always and forever, is you.
That sorrow can only be healed with the acceptance she can give herself.
So we lay on the couch and looked up at the magic sky, practicing.
Practicing being present, enjoying this moment right now. Imagining how the clouds feel. Being grateful for the privilege of a quiet, warm, shelter. Snuggling our dog Birdie. Allowing whatever feelings come, to come... and pass.
And then get a good nights sleep.
*Re-parenting can be explained here. I also like to think of it as imagining my inner child (at whatever age seems to come to you) and then hold space for them. Listen and see what comes up inside you when you say things like “how do you feel?” “what do you need?” and then allow them to feel however they feel for as long as they need to, if there are needs you can meet, try to meet them. You can do this out loud, I like to do it all in my head and in my imagination.
The night described, not pictured. Here is the Full Moon in Libra.