Humbled

 I spent yesterday scrubbing my house and getting ready for my neighborhood's Civic Association meeting, which I was hosting.  I was expecting between 10-15 people--and who better to talk up my house to everyone they know who is looking than people who already live in the neighborhood?  I prepared as if it was an Open House but with food.  I went grocery shopping and made my own gorgeous antipasti plates, heaped with cheeses and fruits and painstakingly rolled cold cuts and cheeses... I farmed Jane out to a play date (She was blissfully happy but I, naturally, felt very guilty because that's just what I do) and made Ana help me. I cleaned the whole house, did all of the laundry, windexed all surfaces, stashed clutter, etc. When I tell you my Obsessive Compulsiveness was in full bloom, I am, for once, not exaggerating.

My foot was really hurting but I felt like I had to treat this like a marketing event.  We've had no traffic at all since the Open House this past weekend.

Two people showed up. TWO.  One of whom is a neighbor.  The other is the editor of the neighborhood newsletter for which I do the design and layout each month.

We had a good time and I held it together but afterward, when they'd left, I got teary.  All that work, all that expense, all this pain --for nothing. I was embarrassed to have made such a big deal out of something that really wasn't. My husband was so kind to me.  He gave me a big hug and resorted to the Ultimate Measure of Manly Comfort: the fishing metaphor.  "Sometimes you fish all day and never catch anything.  I hope you had at least a little fun fishing."

I went upstairs to bed about 10:00 and could see Ana (12) still awake in her bed.  I went in to kiss her goodnight, still with tears in my eyes. I explained that I was disappointed and embarrassed and felt sort of silly and sad.

She got out of bed and hugged me and looked at me with great concern as she walked me to my bedroom.

"Wait," she said.  "Don't go anywhere."

She disappeared into her room and came running back with a fresh, unused notebook and a blue Flair pen (my favorite writing pen at the moment).

"Here, Mom," she said. "Write about it.  That's what I do to feel better when I'm sad."

And the best part?

She said, "I learned that from you."

Sometimes the gentle butterfly wings of grace and generosity in my life beat such a rush of gratitude and love that it literally topples me over.

I'm living in that today--in the gentle grace of the amazing person I am lucky enough to call my daughter.

Roots

This morning when I went into Jane's (9) room to wake her for school, she said, "Noooooooo...I can't. I'm rootbound."

Which made me laugh and kiss her whole head.

And then I started thinking, "You know, I know just what she means."

I've been rootbound for a long time myself.  It's hard to move and it's especially hard if you're bound to a spot that's comfortable.

Today, I am going to breakfast with a group of other moms.  (I know!  Me!) I'm going to work hard on just staying in the moment and not feeling like I have to "perform" in order for people to like me. I'm going to let myself feel some pride in doing something out of the norm, something that requires courage for someone as introverted as I am.

I'm going to work on developing a set of traveling roots.

Friends

Last night, I went over to have drinks and appetizers with some new friends.

I had the best time.

The. Best. Time.

Then I came home and it's just freaking amazing how the old tapes started running through my head.  You know, how I'm not good company and so shy that I can't speak half the time.  And dangerously lonely. And I just talked and talked too much.  I said all the wrong things and divulged too much of myself and stayed too long.

This time, though, I'm not letting those tapes get away with it.  Today, every time I start beating myself up over imaginary offenses, I'm going to stop, take a deep breath, and bring myself back to the present and what I really know. That I AM good company and that I wasn't the only one having a good time last night. That even if I made mistakes and talked too much and did all of those other things, in the end, it's not a moral failing worth the kind of abuse I am heaping on myself.  Today I am going to keep reminding myself that sometimes a good time is just a good time and doesn't need to be dissected and analyzed and rehashed endlessly.

And I'm going to try to not roll my eyes at myself.

Present

Yesterday, I drove to Queens and back to get the results of the MRI of my foot.  The results showed no probable cause of my pain.  The doctor had some theories but nothing really supported by the information of the MRI in combination with the X-rays.

I must say that I consider this a setback, even though it really just means we have to start over looking for answers.  I mean, I am in pain and the fact that we don't know what causes it doesn't make it go away!

Today I am going to let myself feel discouraged if I need to, but I'm not going to wallow in it.  I'm going to go on about my day and not let the non-news rob me of the joys I find in it. I'm going to check in with myself a lot today to make sure I don't let this disappointment translate into self-incrimination.  In fact, I'm going to remind myself that this whole foot odyssey is not due to some large moral failing on my part.

Humor

 Not the barker.  Much.

Yesterday, someone left an anonymous note in my mailbox complaining about my dog barking.

In the past, I would have internalized this as a great failure on my part and also, my feeling would have been hurt that someone was mean to me.  As I've begun to get in touch with my feelings and reactions through mindful living, I am learning to stare right back at these feelings and take them apart.  For example, the fact that my dog barks is not my FAULT.  He is my responsibility but lord knows, we are trying hard to get him to stop barking.

Also, there is something very funny and pathetic that the retiree who left the note in my mailbox had to resort to a snarky anonymous letter.  This, too, is not my fault and honestly, there is nothing these people can do to me, even if they don't like me.  Their disapproval can't hurt me in any way.

Today, I'll focus on keeping my sense of humor and kindness.  I won't let the writers of anonymous notes/mean people have any control over the joy of my day.

Beginnings

It's an odd thing that as I've begun to listen for my own inner voice, that I've started to...well...CARE about myself again.  I care enough to try to minimize my stress.  I find that I am setting boundaries for what I do with my time, instead of just reacting to the demands of other people.

Another unexpected thing that has come out of this is that I suddenly am taking a little better care of myself.  Like, I care that I haven't made time to have my teeth cleaned in two years, that I need to see a dermatologist about a suspicious spot on my arm.  I want my hair cut and have actually been thinking I might do something more than just the trim I normally get so I can stuff the whole unruly mass into a pony tail.  I'm using a little eye-cream at night.  I'm taking the time to cut up fruit for myself --FOR MYSELF ONLY --for breakfast.  In the past, I just never would have done this.  Take the time to prepare a meal just for me?  Unheard of.

Instead of thinking of myself as an after-thought, --or worse, as someone to punish for falling short of my own ideals-- I am finding some kindness for myself.

This is heady stuff for a woman who has put herself as far out of her mind as possible.

What kindness will you find for yourself today?