When you were born, I woke up with every movement, every sound, every tiny squeak or out-of-sync breath. I’d sit up in my hospital bed, no matter what time, put my hand on your chest, adjust the swaddling blanket, lay back down.
Here I am now, sitting in a chair next to your hospital bed, waking up with every movement, every whimper or sigh or irregular breath amplified by the breathing machine between us.
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I knew that this was coming. At least I suspected it would. The whir of the oxygen machine, the light from the monitors illuminating her little body in a big bed. Bags of saline and medicine and food hang from the iv pole, like a medical jellyfish. Sea turtle decals on the doors and large pictures of the ocean on the bathroom wall.
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I was 27 when they told me she would die before me.
She would not bury me at 89 or 92 or 99
But I would bury her at 6 or 16 or 19
Would I put her body in the ground
Or let the ashes come home with me
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I was there when he died.
Well, almost.
I had been at my parents’ house a lot of the week, keeping watch with my mom, administering morphine to my dad, trying to keep him comfortable. He couldn’t communicate what he needed, couldn’t speak at all, or even acknowledge our presence at the end. I was there all Sunday morning with them, went home for five minutes, and in the short time that I was gone, he died.
I think maybe he was playing a final joke on me.
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“Why are you trying to block the flow of stress to them?” I asked.
“It’s like you’re standing in the middle of a river, arms out wide, trying with all your might to keep emotions like stress, anxiety, frustration, etc. from getting to them. You’re trying to absorb those emotions and you are wearing yourself out.”
One of the most difficult things to manage as an adult is advocating for yourself even when you know that other people aren’t going to like it.
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I was working on time management skills in my business with a friend and he made a simple comment that hit just right: “You have to believe that you’re worth making time for yourself.” It was a lightbulb moment that illuminated how I thought about myself, what I was willing to make time for, and my faulty beliefs about what taking care of myself meant.
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We waste so much energy in indecision.
The sheer amount of options seem to paralyze us. We make pros and cons lists. We talk with friends and neighbors and therapists and the stranger in the check-out line, but we are left still hanging by the thread of our uncertainty, like a loose tooth that is begging to be pulled out. We somehow believe that not making a decision is the wisest thing to do.
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I’m sitting in the public library, surrounded by gigantic plants. I love this spot, next to big windows and big plants. This one to my right is twisted, huge stem resting on the windowsill, leaves pressed against the glass, gulping in the sunshine. It made me think about how we long for light. We long to be noticed, emotionally fed, celebrated and understood.
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Whaaaat is this obsession with doing things perfectly?! I’ll tell you my theory: it’s our sweet way of trying to avoid uncomfortable feelings (like failure). When we demand perfection from ourselves, we can leave our work in draft form forever, never to see the light of day (or people’s criticism). Trying to avoid mistakes is akin to trying to keep your teeth sparkly white while you’re eating Oreos.
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I want to share with you what works and what doesn’t when it comes to affirmations, especially if you’ve consistently employed your affirmations every day and aren’t seeing any progress toward what you’re calling in. It can be mega frustrating to not be able to figure out how to make the damn things work already.
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