The prompt: What are three things you would like to let go of before the year is
out? See if you can list three physical things and three emotional ones.
For bonus points: conduct a burning ceremony or release your secrets into nature by writing them onto leaves/stones and dropping them into the nearest river/ocean.
Emotional
Frustration, anger, resentment, grief. Tied together in a Gordian Knot-like bundle, these emotions center on my relationship with a loved child who has a mélange of problems, some self-induced, some based (likely) on her heredity, some that began long ago and were inflicted upon her. Whether she is either incapable of or does not choose to address root causes is difficult to determine. There are resources available to help; I see little motivation. There has been a choice to engage in self-destructive behaviors, however, and so much of the story is clouded either by lies or omission that it is difficult to trust what I hear or see. I finally have been able to draw boundaries that work pretty well, but there is still grief for a relationship I'd always expected to be different than it is, and frustration that it is unlikely to change much. This one has taken years to get this far; I don't expect it to be resolved by the end of the year, or perhaps ever, but I am making a reluctant peace with what it is.
Instant judgment. Think Walmart Internet pictures here -- the people in the skimpy, inappropriate, weird, dirty clothing, or wild, sometimes offensive tattoos emblazoned on highly visible body parts, or painstakingly manicured false fingernails on someone who is holding a sign asking for money. Children screaming and running amok in stores and restaurants without any sign that a responsible adult is watching them. I judge. Not positively either. And not every case is quite as extreme as these, but I tend to rush to judgment. I want to practice looking at everyone with kind eyes instead of judgmental ones. I do not know their stories. I do not know how they love, what they do, who loves them. They cannot know mine either, this Amazonian, slightly overweight, grey-haired woman who stands behind them in line. May my eyes and heart soften this year.
Self-criticism. That damned judge who sits in my brain and officiates over his kangaroo court needs to be permanently ousted. No more shoulda-coulda-wouldas in the middle of the night. And he can take his ice weasel deputies with him. I'm pretty good just the way I am, and if I screw up once in a while, I don't have to serve time in the dungeon of despair for it.
Physical
About 20 pounds. Okay, ten pounds. Keep working at controlling portions, at snacking, especially on absolutely not good for me stuff (back, you delinquent Snickers bar, BACK to the shelf, I say!) I will get there.
Fear because of my atrial fibrillation. My regular doctor has referred me to a cardiologist, a mutual decision. His office hasn't called yet. I haven't either. A few tests and a good consultation will either confirm or allay my fears. As it is, when I'm in afib, I am anxious that there is more wrong than a mere sinus node malfunction even though I have no other apparent symptoms of heart disease. Gah.
Not going to the gym/yoga. I feel better when I go. I am stronger, have better balance, and I feel slightly self-righteous about doing good things for my body. I love the meditative movement of yoga (and plan on trying Tai Chi as well). But I am so good at making up excuses not to go 'today' -- too hot (and I DID turn into a mole when our weather was so hot for so long), things to do, going somewhere -- and that needs to stop. I am better when I do this: I need to act on it.
We're spending many days in September beside the ocean. One at a time, each of these will go to Mama Ocean's heart, and I will release the negative energy into her constant vigil, and take in the positive energy to my own soul.
Showing posts with label control. Show all posts
Showing posts with label control. Show all posts
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Letting go -- again
That old lesson of letting something/one go seems to constantly be in front of me, but a blogging friend posted a poem the other day that really helped me understand the concept in a new way, easier to wrap my head around.
It said:
It said:
To "let go" does not mean to stop caring.
It means I can't do it for someone else.
To "let go" is not to cut myself off.
It's the realization that I can't control another.
To "let go" is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To "let go" is not to try to change or blame another.
It's to make the most of myself.
To "let go" is not to care for, but to care about.
To "let go" is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To "let go" is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
To "let go" is not to be in the middle, arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own destinies.
To "let go" is not to deny, but to accept.
To "let go" is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To "let go" is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
To "let go" is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
To "let go" is to fear less and to love more.
That's my new plan for the rest of 2011 and forward into 2012. Be who I am now, let go of my need to control and please, seize the day for the good that we find in each one, and let regret go.
It means I can't do it for someone else.
To "let go" is not to cut myself off.
It's the realization that I can't control another.
To "let go" is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To "let go" is not to try to change or blame another.
It's to make the most of myself.
To "let go" is not to care for, but to care about.
To "let go" is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To "let go" is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
To "let go" is not to be in the middle, arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own destinies.
To "let go" is not to deny, but to accept.
To "let go" is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To "let go" is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
To "let go" is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
To "let go" is to fear less and to love more.
--Unknown--
It's not new, it' s just new to me. The quote is all over Google.
Perhaps it feels relevant because we are on the cusp of change again: our youngest princess has moved to the Seattle area with her family to start a new, hopefully better life, although it's been a rocky start since her husband's (felony child-abusing) ex immediately filed a declaration that resulted in her receiving the three older children temporarily, and creating great turmoil. A court session tomorrow should result in V and D getting the kids back, and visitation mediation happening via phone. Nonetheless it has been difficult all around, especially for the kids, who have lived full-time with V & D for more than four years now. We've been on board to listen and soothe and comfort, and help as we are able.
Perhaps it feels relevant because I have worked hard to 'let go' of Princess #1 and my tendency to want to micromanage her life and choices, and for the most part am succeeding. Doesn't mean I'm sleeping all that well at night, when the ice weasels come out to play, but I'm not in her face all the time anymore -- healthier at least for me; it has got to be less frustrating for her. Her choices and decisions are hers to make, not mine, and the consequences of those choices also are hers, and I am not going to make them mine. The poem above helps me feel less like I'm abandoning her or that I don't care, because I do, very much. But I am not the responsible party here.
That said, I spent a good bit of July and August on the car search and ended up reasonably happy (although my tendency to second-guess myself after the deed was done appeared at least briefly). That's done. I've let it go. (really)
And we're looking at some changes in our lives too, although until it is actually fact I am not saying exactly what it is in this forum. These are good things, though.
Another thing I'm in the process of doing is letting go of all the people I used to be: a very busy career woman, an active church and choir and committee participant, an involved mom with a school-age child, a do-it-yourselfer who painted, papered, stripped wood floors, made most of my clothes as well as R's dresses and tops. I'm not there anymore; I'll never be there again, nor do I want to go back.
I confess to having some ideas of making some simple clothing again, since I find it hard to find styles I enjoy in colors that are pleasing, and especially for a reasonable price. I will probably end up volunteering in some capacity eventually, although nothing is singing loudly to me right now. I want to nurture my creative side again: I've been so caught up in managing R's affairs and illness and the business details of that for so long, and there is always something around here to clean out or tidy up or cook or fold, and so I've procrastinated finding my creative self for a long, long time. I want to let the need-to-ought-to-do stuff slide more and spend more time reading a novel or even beginning to write one, finishing the charm necklace I started two years ago and do more repurposing of my old jewelry., I want to put my ideas for landscaping our yard into action and start getting the bones in place.
I do not want to spend more time worrying about other people's lives and how they could fix them if they just listened to me. I want to let that go. All of that.
And I'm also beginning to accept where I am on the great wheel of life. I have fewer years ahead of me than are behind me. My butt-time career is really over, and I won't be climbing any more corporate ladders, not that I ever really did, with so much of my working life spent in non-profit and public sector areas. While I'm pretty tech-savvy and I read a lot about pop culture, I'm not in the main target audience for anything except Medicare supplemental insurance and walk-in bathtubs. I don't offer opinions anymore to anyone who will listen, and sometimes I'm sorry I opened my mouth when I do, partly because I'm realizing that disagreeing with a long- and strongly-held opinion is pretty useless and usually merely frustrating.
Life is short, too short to spend one more moment doing things and saying things that don't much matter to who I am. I'm letting go of the desire to please people, sometimes just by not saying what is in my head and at the back of my throat, but most definitely by not putting myself in a vulnerable situation in the first place -- i.e., doing something somewhere with people that I don't really care much about. I'm letting go of other people's expectations of what I will do or how I should act, and am resolved to be just who I am.
Yes, it IS all about me from now on!
(Well, that'd be me and my honey. But he loves who I really am, warts and all, and encourages me to be more me. It doesn't get better than that.)
That's my new plan for the rest of 2011 and forward into 2012. Be who I am now, let go of my need to control and please, seize the day for the good that we find in each one, and let regret go.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saving the only life I can
Like many whose nature it is to take care of others, I have an almost overwhelming need to make things 'all right' when I know a friend or relative is having problems, sometimes to the point of obsession and to the detriment of my own sleep and daily life.
I want to 'fix' it. I want to offer advice and care. I want their issues to be resolved and for them not to be troubled with whatever it is.
I've done this all my life.
Over the years I've learned to (mostly) shut up and only offer advice if I'm asked, although I still sometimes venture an opinion if I think it will be received as it was meant -- to be helpful. I don't leap in anymore (hardly ever) with my superwoman cape bearing food, money, or tangible 'help' that might ease the pain of whatever issue it is for the individual.
I am especially guilty of asking too many questions, mostly of my daughters, although I have curbed that urge significantly in the last year or two -- admittedly probably not to their satisfaction. I try not to offer unsolicited advice very often, at least.
But I have mom-radar that works overtime and picks up little things here and there that sometimes can feed my obsessive mind and fertile imagination. Sometimes I'm wrong and everything is pretty much okay. And I hate it when I'm right and things start crashing down.
I want my children (and friends) to be okay, to have lives that are satisfying and reasonably calm and with enough of everything to keep them healthy, safe, fed, clothed, warm, and housed.
But I also understand with everything in me that is rational that I cannot live their lives and make their choices for them. I must be okay with watching them fail sometimes and without trying to fix anything.
(I'll admit that both Tony and I have, in the past, 'fixed' things, at least somewhat: Made it easier to get to a goal, or offered support when maybe it would have been better to stand back, lovingly. But we've worked on reasonable boundaries for our behavior and for their expectations, and it has succeeded fairly well, although not without some occasional pain and angst on both sides.)
When someone you love makes choices that appear to be dangerous either to their health or well-being, setting boundaries becomes far more difficult, and yet even more essential.
I've invested much time and money and worry in our girls, especially as some issues have proven to be so huge and ongoing, even a matter of survival. It's taken a toll on me that I've realized more clearly in recent months, and I've been working on relinquishing control, whether by giving my opinion or taking charge of getting things done, or checking in (asking questions).
I got smacked upside the head last week, though, when I was reading through the new O Magazine issue. It was one of our recently frequent stormy, windy nights with rain and very strong gusts howling outside, and I was reading in bed, just prior to turning off the light (as I do every night).
The issue is about poetry and the importance it has for so many of us, how it's shaped our actions or given us touchstones to live by. (I've especially loved Robert Frost since I first read him so many decades ago and still can recite several, for instance. )
On this night, though, I was reading Maria Shriver's interview with poet Mary Oliver. Shriver had included her favorite of Oliver's poems, "The Journey," which I read after I'd finished the article.
And it said exactly what I've needed to hear in exactly the words that would resonate so deeply that I couldn't rationalize my behavior and feelings anymore.
I've read it every day since, (puddling up every time) repeating the last words over and over to myself: "...determined to do the only thing you could do--determined to save the only life you could save."
That would be mine.
And that's my new mantra. It's making things easier for me, actually. It's on the order of the old 12-step saying, "I am powerless over people, places and things" -- but somehow it has been especially meaningful for me right now.
There is more of my life behind me than is ahead of me. I will not abdicate that in favor of someone else's life, no matter how much I love them and want to make things better.
I still have hopes and dreams and plans to achieve for myself. And nobody else can do that for me except me. No one WILL do that for me except me. And I must allow those I care about to do the same for their own lives, regardless of what I might think about it. It is not mine to live.
So I'm finally moving ahead with my own life: taking care of me first, doing things I want to do, living more in the moment -- my moment, not someone else's moment.
And I'm keeping my head up, watching for the stars to break through the clouds. Because they will. They are.
I want to 'fix' it. I want to offer advice and care. I want their issues to be resolved and for them not to be troubled with whatever it is.
I've done this all my life.
Over the years I've learned to (mostly) shut up and only offer advice if I'm asked, although I still sometimes venture an opinion if I think it will be received as it was meant -- to be helpful. I don't leap in anymore (hardly ever) with my superwoman cape bearing food, money, or tangible 'help' that might ease the pain of whatever issue it is for the individual.
I am especially guilty of asking too many questions, mostly of my daughters, although I have curbed that urge significantly in the last year or two -- admittedly probably not to their satisfaction. I try not to offer unsolicited advice very often, at least.
But I have mom-radar that works overtime and picks up little things here and there that sometimes can feed my obsessive mind and fertile imagination. Sometimes I'm wrong and everything is pretty much okay. And I hate it when I'm right and things start crashing down.
I want my children (and friends) to be okay, to have lives that are satisfying and reasonably calm and with enough of everything to keep them healthy, safe, fed, clothed, warm, and housed.
But I also understand with everything in me that is rational that I cannot live their lives and make their choices for them. I must be okay with watching them fail sometimes and without trying to fix anything.
(I'll admit that both Tony and I have, in the past, 'fixed' things, at least somewhat: Made it easier to get to a goal, or offered support when maybe it would have been better to stand back, lovingly. But we've worked on reasonable boundaries for our behavior and for their expectations, and it has succeeded fairly well, although not without some occasional pain and angst on both sides.)
When someone you love makes choices that appear to be dangerous either to their health or well-being, setting boundaries becomes far more difficult, and yet even more essential.
I've invested much time and money and worry in our girls, especially as some issues have proven to be so huge and ongoing, even a matter of survival. It's taken a toll on me that I've realized more clearly in recent months, and I've been working on relinquishing control, whether by giving my opinion or taking charge of getting things done, or checking in (asking questions).
I got smacked upside the head last week, though, when I was reading through the new O Magazine issue. It was one of our recently frequent stormy, windy nights with rain and very strong gusts howling outside, and I was reading in bed, just prior to turning off the light (as I do every night).
The issue is about poetry and the importance it has for so many of us, how it's shaped our actions or given us touchstones to live by. (I've especially loved Robert Frost since I first read him so many decades ago and still can recite several, for instance. )
On this night, though, I was reading Maria Shriver's interview with poet Mary Oliver. Shriver had included her favorite of Oliver's poems, "The Journey," which I read after I'd finished the article.
And it said exactly what I've needed to hear in exactly the words that would resonate so deeply that I couldn't rationalize my behavior and feelings anymore.
I've read it every day since, (puddling up every time) repeating the last words over and over to myself: "...determined to do the only thing you could do--determined to save the only life you could save."
That would be mine.
And that's my new mantra. It's making things easier for me, actually. It's on the order of the old 12-step saying, "I am powerless over people, places and things" -- but somehow it has been especially meaningful for me right now.
There is more of my life behind me than is ahead of me. I will not abdicate that in favor of someone else's life, no matter how much I love them and want to make things better.
I still have hopes and dreams and plans to achieve for myself. And nobody else can do that for me except me. No one WILL do that for me except me. And I must allow those I care about to do the same for their own lives, regardless of what I might think about it. It is not mine to live.
So I'm finally moving ahead with my own life: taking care of me first, doing things I want to do, living more in the moment -- my moment, not someone else's moment.
And I'm keeping my head up, watching for the stars to break through the clouds. Because they will. They are.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Letting go -- again
Today's Daily Om is about control...just as in riding a roller coaster, you can either sit gripping tightly to the crossbar, teeth clenched in apprehension, or you can throw your hands in the air, let your body move to the curves, and enjoy the ride.
I'm really good at holding on. REALLY good. For far too long.
I admit that I do like to control things. I hate, even more than being lied to, being blindsided. And those things that blindside you are seldom pleasant ones, alas.
So I try to steer wherever I can, try to keep things on a level that I can manage, and pretty much try to see where they're going, and deter them if at all possible, without throwing myself directly in front of the bus that's about to hit them.
Nothing has gone off the rails lately, knock wood, but the Daily Om certainly did conjure some memories of not-so-pleasant experiences that I'm not anxious to repeat.
That said, because I DO like to manage things, I create a lot of stress for myself, a lot of pressure, and more than a little angst. Not healthy. Not even productive. Completely unnecessary and actually pretty stupid behavior. I'm supposed to be wiser than that at my age.
So I'm still (again) working on letting go: agreeing that I am powerless over people, places and things, and that I do NOT know better than anyone how to run things, especially the lives of other people.
Friends and family (and formerly co-workers) do have the right to their own choices and to make decisions for themselves that are -- from my lofty viewpoint -- fairly nigh on to stupid, if not downright destructive.
God knows -- oh, She does -- that my choices have not always been the best possible ones. Why, then, do I take on the burden of worry and action (when possible) that are not mine to manage? Maybe I think that I can do better with someone else's life than I have with mine?
(Actually, mine is a very good life, and I am grateful every day, multiple times every day. And that is despite some not very good choices in the past. I count my blessings, I ask for help for myself and also for those I love, and I try to be kind and to let people know that I care about them. I am very lucky to have what I do.)
So the only thing I really need to do is to let go: throw my hands up in the air and enjoy the ride on this coaster. See the views from the top of my own ride, and stop worrying about whether or not anyone else will be able to see the same views as I do. Their ride may be completely different, with even better views. I'd like to think so.
I'm really good at holding on. REALLY good. For far too long.
I admit that I do like to control things. I hate, even more than being lied to, being blindsided. And those things that blindside you are seldom pleasant ones, alas.
So I try to steer wherever I can, try to keep things on a level that I can manage, and pretty much try to see where they're going, and deter them if at all possible, without throwing myself directly in front of the bus that's about to hit them.
Nothing has gone off the rails lately, knock wood, but the Daily Om certainly did conjure some memories of not-so-pleasant experiences that I'm not anxious to repeat.
That said, because I DO like to manage things, I create a lot of stress for myself, a lot of pressure, and more than a little angst. Not healthy. Not even productive. Completely unnecessary and actually pretty stupid behavior. I'm supposed to be wiser than that at my age.
So I'm still (again) working on letting go: agreeing that I am powerless over people, places and things, and that I do NOT know better than anyone how to run things, especially the lives of other people.
Friends and family (and formerly co-workers) do have the right to their own choices and to make decisions for themselves that are -- from my lofty viewpoint -- fairly nigh on to stupid, if not downright destructive.
God knows -- oh, She does -- that my choices have not always been the best possible ones. Why, then, do I take on the burden of worry and action (when possible) that are not mine to manage? Maybe I think that I can do better with someone else's life than I have with mine?
(Actually, mine is a very good life, and I am grateful every day, multiple times every day. And that is despite some not very good choices in the past. I count my blessings, I ask for help for myself and also for those I love, and I try to be kind and to let people know that I care about them. I am very lucky to have what I do.)
So the only thing I really need to do is to let go: throw my hands up in the air and enjoy the ride on this coaster. See the views from the top of my own ride, and stop worrying about whether or not anyone else will be able to see the same views as I do. Their ride may be completely different, with even better views. I'd like to think so.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Self-will run riot
One of the blogs I read regularly is written by a young man who has a mental illness and is also an alcoholic. He is very forthcoming about his problems and his relationship with his family, and he writes very well -- you can 'see' the scenes he describes, and 'listen' to the dialogues between him and the few people who populate his world. He could certainly write a book that would be interesting and descriptive.
He's sort of gone off the rails lately and seems to be in a rather manic phase, doing things that are likely to lead to devastation and relapse and perhaps even hospitalization, in my inexpert opinion. His past blog posts pretty much bear that out -- this is not new behavior. He is talking all the right stuff, but I'm very skeptical. Guess that's a problem when you've been around for a while -- not much really is new behavior or situations that can't be seen pretty clearly.
It's a classic example of "self-will run riot" -- a description of an alcoholic who wants to deny that "... he is bodily and mentally different from his fellows. Therefore, it is not surprising that our drinking careers have been characterized by countless vain attempts that somehow, someday we will control and enjoy our drinking is the real obsession of every abnormal drinker. The persistence of this illusion is astonishing."
We've used this phrase for years to describe many situations: our daughters' behaviors, for instance, when they go off to do something that, they explain to us, "is something I just have to do for me." And then we watch when the train derails, or at best, loses a couple of cars as it careens around the twisty, wind-y bends. Or situations at work, or in meetings when self-interest prevails over the goals of the group to the point of being damaging.
But we're not picking up as many pieces as we used to in any of the situations, hard as it has been. It's hard not to leap in and save people from themselves, to throw money at something to ease the pain, to smooth out whatever problems have arisen from the individual's self-will rioting.
We've set boundaries for ourselves: beyond this place be dragons. And we don't go there, at least not often, and not with everything we can muster.
We create our own destiny. Our actions will have re-actions, and when -- despite past history, despite the cautions of those who know and love us, despite (perhaps) that tiny voice deep inside us saying "Danger, danger, Will Robinson!" -- we forge ahead anyway, the resulting issues are ours to deal with.
This phrase applies in so many ways! Right now we are trying hard to curtail portion sizes, to limit foods that we know are not good for us (like anything my seriously bad sweet tooth wants), and to lose weight. We are on the edge of diabetes (both of us have immediate relatives who had it), and the way to forestall it is to lose weight and do some kind of regular exercise.
If we don't do all we can now, it IS going to happen. It WILL shorten our lives and cause us other health issues.
I don't want to get there knowing that I could have done something to prevent -- or at least deterred -- the disease.
So when I'm tempted to pick up a box of candies at the store, I remember "self-will run riot" and put it back down. If it's not in the house, I can't eat it. And I can't afford too many more 'just this once -- I deserve it' excuses. It's too easy to slip back into bad habits.
In my blogger friend's case, he has made a bunch of changes in only a few days -- like getting a job after having been on disability for years, like drinking again, like deciding that he doesn't really have an alcoholic problem but it's the stress of dealing with his anxieties (caused, of course, by the pressure his family has put on him) that made him drink.
And it's not that I think some of his decisions aren't good ones in the long run. But positive change occurs with planning and talking and slowly implementing first one thing, then another, then another, and in concert with your doctor and caregivers. That hasn't happened.
To change everything all at once, to leap without considering the effects of your choices on your finances, your body, your loved ones, and your mental state is a sure-fire way to crash land.
Self-will is what it takes to change, for sure. Disciplined, planned, determined self-will got me to California. It got me into healthier lifestyles in years past. But it was planned, and it was not done without regard to consequences.
I hope my blogger friend will be all right. His parents have, from what he writes, picked him up and rescued him many times over the years, and he is incredibly lucky for that, I suppose. I'm sure they will do the same this time, although I think their doing so continues to set up a pattern that will eventually repeat with the same results.
And when you love someone, especially a child, it's very hard to watch the crash landing and do little or nothing. But sometimes that is the best thing one can do: be compassionate and loving, but acknowledging that the choices and consequences are someone else's to deal with.
All we have control over is ourselves: not others, not our children or our friends or our grandchildren or our relatives. They must take responsibility for their own choices and actions even if those choices impact us and our emotions. By rescuing too often, we try to take their lives into our own hands -- and that is not good for anyone.
He's sort of gone off the rails lately and seems to be in a rather manic phase, doing things that are likely to lead to devastation and relapse and perhaps even hospitalization, in my inexpert opinion. His past blog posts pretty much bear that out -- this is not new behavior. He is talking all the right stuff, but I'm very skeptical. Guess that's a problem when you've been around for a while -- not much really is new behavior or situations that can't be seen pretty clearly.
It's a classic example of "self-will run riot" -- a description of an alcoholic who wants to deny that "... he is bodily and mentally different from his fellows. Therefore, it is not surprising that our drinking careers have been characterized by countless vain attempts that somehow, someday we will control and enjoy our drinking is the real obsession of every abnormal drinker. The persistence of this illusion is astonishing."
We've used this phrase for years to describe many situations: our daughters' behaviors, for instance, when they go off to do something that, they explain to us, "is something I just have to do for me." And then we watch when the train derails, or at best, loses a couple of cars as it careens around the twisty, wind-y bends. Or situations at work, or in meetings when self-interest prevails over the goals of the group to the point of being damaging.
But we're not picking up as many pieces as we used to in any of the situations, hard as it has been. It's hard not to leap in and save people from themselves, to throw money at something to ease the pain, to smooth out whatever problems have arisen from the individual's self-will rioting.
We've set boundaries for ourselves: beyond this place be dragons. And we don't go there, at least not often, and not with everything we can muster.
We create our own destiny. Our actions will have re-actions, and when -- despite past history, despite the cautions of those who know and love us, despite (perhaps) that tiny voice deep inside us saying "Danger, danger, Will Robinson!" -- we forge ahead anyway, the resulting issues are ours to deal with.
This phrase applies in so many ways! Right now we are trying hard to curtail portion sizes, to limit foods that we know are not good for us (like anything my seriously bad sweet tooth wants), and to lose weight. We are on the edge of diabetes (both of us have immediate relatives who had it), and the way to forestall it is to lose weight and do some kind of regular exercise.
If we don't do all we can now, it IS going to happen. It WILL shorten our lives and cause us other health issues.
I don't want to get there knowing that I could have done something to prevent -- or at least deterred -- the disease.
So when I'm tempted to pick up a box of candies at the store, I remember "self-will run riot" and put it back down. If it's not in the house, I can't eat it. And I can't afford too many more 'just this once -- I deserve it' excuses. It's too easy to slip back into bad habits.
In my blogger friend's case, he has made a bunch of changes in only a few days -- like getting a job after having been on disability for years, like drinking again, like deciding that he doesn't really have an alcoholic problem but it's the stress of dealing with his anxieties (caused, of course, by the pressure his family has put on him) that made him drink.
And it's not that I think some of his decisions aren't good ones in the long run. But positive change occurs with planning and talking and slowly implementing first one thing, then another, then another, and in concert with your doctor and caregivers. That hasn't happened.
To change everything all at once, to leap without considering the effects of your choices on your finances, your body, your loved ones, and your mental state is a sure-fire way to crash land.
Self-will is what it takes to change, for sure. Disciplined, planned, determined self-will got me to California. It got me into healthier lifestyles in years past. But it was planned, and it was not done without regard to consequences.
I hope my blogger friend will be all right. His parents have, from what he writes, picked him up and rescued him many times over the years, and he is incredibly lucky for that, I suppose. I'm sure they will do the same this time, although I think their doing so continues to set up a pattern that will eventually repeat with the same results.
And when you love someone, especially a child, it's very hard to watch the crash landing and do little or nothing. But sometimes that is the best thing one can do: be compassionate and loving, but acknowledging that the choices and consequences are someone else's to deal with.
All we have control over is ourselves: not others, not our children or our friends or our grandchildren or our relatives. They must take responsibility for their own choices and actions even if those choices impact us and our emotions. By rescuing too often, we try to take their lives into our own hands -- and that is not good for anyone.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
You can say that again
From one of the bulletin board sites I read regularly came this post:
"I cannot love a person out of their life lessons ... they cannot love me out of mine either!
We all learn what we learn along the way and maybe, just maybe,
that is exactly howthe Universe plans for us to learn, slowly, intensely, and individually."
Smacks a punch, hm?
From another one:
"You begin and end somewhere and I begin and end somewhere else. Healthy boundaries are the foundation to healthy relationships. Don’t take on what you don’t own. Let others be responsible for what they are responsible for."
And also this one:
" If nothing changes, nothing changes. If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always gotten. In order for things to change, you must change things."
The last two are from Getting Past Your Past, a blog I've read mostly daily for months. While I am not, thank god, in an abusive relationship nor have ever been, my daughters have been. I've shared some of these writings with them from time to time, although I also realize that you don't hear and see until you are ready to hear and see. But mostly I read because the lessons are good ones for any relationship.
I'm trying to learn to hold my tongue these days rather than instruct/inform/lecture/berate -- which, these posts remind me -- is pretty useless when you're dealing with anyone, sick or not. Sometimes silence is indeed golden -- something I forget too many times.
This is one of my life lessons: to learn to be speech-less sometimes, to remember that all the talk in the world will not effect change if the person doesn't want to/isn't ready to change.
All I can do is take care of MY business, to establish boundaries I need.
I'm grateful for the Internet and the lessons that are out there on so many wonderful sites, just waiting for us to find them, like books in a library. We teach each other by our stories, we encourage each other with subject-oriented bulletin boards. We are not alone in our experiences, or in our pain. That is important to remember.
"I cannot love a person out of their life lessons ... they cannot love me out of mine either!
We all learn what we learn along the way and maybe, just maybe,
that is exactly howthe Universe plans for us to learn, slowly, intensely, and individually."
Smacks a punch, hm?
From another one:
"You begin and end somewhere and I begin and end somewhere else. Healthy boundaries are the foundation to healthy relationships. Don’t take on what you don’t own. Let others be responsible for what they are responsible for."
And also this one:
" If nothing changes, nothing changes. If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always gotten. In order for things to change, you must change things."
The last two are from Getting Past Your Past, a blog I've read mostly daily for months. While I am not, thank god, in an abusive relationship nor have ever been, my daughters have been. I've shared some of these writings with them from time to time, although I also realize that you don't hear and see until you are ready to hear and see. But mostly I read because the lessons are good ones for any relationship.
I'm trying to learn to hold my tongue these days rather than instruct/inform/lecture/berate -- which, these posts remind me -- is pretty useless when you're dealing with anyone, sick or not. Sometimes silence is indeed golden -- something I forget too many times.
This is one of my life lessons: to learn to be speech-less sometimes, to remember that all the talk in the world will not effect change if the person doesn't want to/isn't ready to change.
All I can do is take care of MY business, to establish boundaries I need.
I'm grateful for the Internet and the lessons that are out there on so many wonderful sites, just waiting for us to find them, like books in a library. We teach each other by our stories, we encourage each other with subject-oriented bulletin boards. We are not alone in our experiences, or in our pain. That is important to remember.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Quietly contemplating choices
After a couple of days of turmoil on all fronts, lots of fear and ice weasels, lots of reading about coping and consequences, we are in a place of relative calm tonight.
Our child is safe and okay, and has made some decisions about where she wants to be. For my part, I am determined to give her back the power I've assumed on her behalf over the last few months, and to stop treating her as though she were an errant teenager.
For this moment, I believe what she is saying is the truth.
And if it is not, that too will eventually come out. Truth always does.
But everyone deserves at least a couple of do-overs, y'know? So this is one.
I do have a problem with control: I like knowing what is going on and alllllll the details -- always have, and that has caused problems in my relationships with my daughters in the past. If I really get honest about it, I think I see the "right" thing to do, and I push and push to have it go in that direction.
For me, the hardest thing is to let go of that control. While I say "I am powerless over people, places, and things," I often don't actually ACT it. or believe it, I suppose
My brother would agree that I am and always have been fairly bossy. (ooo...that is SO hard to admit, especially where I know he's going to see it)
And I also have to admit that my own life has not always been a textbook of the best or the right way to live. I've screwed things up pretty well any number of times. No, I never suffered horrible consequences like getting thrown in jail, getting arrested, gravely serious injury (although I bear a few scars here and there, and there are a few instances I really don't like remembering), or doing injury to others, at least injuries that are visible.
But I'm sure I gave my mother and father more than a few sleepless nights, and caused my ex some major heartburn. I'm sure I lost a few friends -- although I'm not sure that they were all that great a friend to begin with.
So the lesson I need to find in this is to accept the consequences of my own behavior, of my own choices, and to let go of the need and the desire to direct the choices and lives of others -- my daughters, my dear husband, or my greater family and friends.
It simply is NOT MINE TO DO. Not mine to manage.
Whatever my daughters choose to do in their lives are theirs to manage and to live with. I will never, ever stop loving them. But I am not responsible for their choices. I cannot control their mistakes. And we ALL make mistakes.
Mine in this instance was probably in jumping a bit too quickly to conclusions, and trying too hard to control things.
If there is risky behavior from either child, it is they who will bear the consequences. I cannot save them from that, try as I might. And to jump in to either condemn or rescue is equally as bad.
So tonight I will turn my attention to myself, and ask for the serenity to accept those things I cannot change. And for the wisdom to know the difference. I don't lack for courage, but wisdom to know has definitely been an issue in the past. I just didn't realize how great an issue it still was.
And I am grateful that she is safe and okay for now, that she has made a CHOICE to be where she is, and that her people radar has kicked in enough, at least, to override her stubborn nature and allowed her to see the danger.
I will turn my worries and fears and control over to the care of God/dess, and try to keep myself on the path to serenity. This is a journey. It matters what I do every day. But neither will I beat myself up unnecessarily. It is about progress, not perfection, and I am working on my own issues.
Thank you for your prayers and your love. It is all that which has brought this to be where it is tonight, of that I am sure. Keep them coming -- and I will hold you close in my heart and in my prayers as well.
Our child is safe and okay, and has made some decisions about where she wants to be. For my part, I am determined to give her back the power I've assumed on her behalf over the last few months, and to stop treating her as though she were an errant teenager.
For this moment, I believe what she is saying is the truth.
And if it is not, that too will eventually come out. Truth always does.
But everyone deserves at least a couple of do-overs, y'know? So this is one.
I do have a problem with control: I like knowing what is going on and alllllll the details -- always have, and that has caused problems in my relationships with my daughters in the past. If I really get honest about it, I think I see the "right" thing to do, and I push and push to have it go in that direction.
For me, the hardest thing is to let go of that control. While I say "I am powerless over people, places, and things," I often don't actually ACT it. or believe it, I suppose
My brother would agree that I am and always have been fairly bossy. (ooo...that is SO hard to admit, especially where I know he's going to see it)
And I also have to admit that my own life has not always been a textbook of the best or the right way to live. I've screwed things up pretty well any number of times. No, I never suffered horrible consequences like getting thrown in jail, getting arrested, gravely serious injury (although I bear a few scars here and there, and there are a few instances I really don't like remembering), or doing injury to others, at least injuries that are visible.
But I'm sure I gave my mother and father more than a few sleepless nights, and caused my ex some major heartburn. I'm sure I lost a few friends -- although I'm not sure that they were all that great a friend to begin with.
So the lesson I need to find in this is to accept the consequences of my own behavior, of my own choices, and to let go of the need and the desire to direct the choices and lives of others -- my daughters, my dear husband, or my greater family and friends.
It simply is NOT MINE TO DO. Not mine to manage.
Whatever my daughters choose to do in their lives are theirs to manage and to live with. I will never, ever stop loving them. But I am not responsible for their choices. I cannot control their mistakes. And we ALL make mistakes.
Mine in this instance was probably in jumping a bit too quickly to conclusions, and trying too hard to control things.
If there is risky behavior from either child, it is they who will bear the consequences. I cannot save them from that, try as I might. And to jump in to either condemn or rescue is equally as bad.
So tonight I will turn my attention to myself, and ask for the serenity to accept those things I cannot change. And for the wisdom to know the difference. I don't lack for courage, but wisdom to know has definitely been an issue in the past. I just didn't realize how great an issue it still was.
And I am grateful that she is safe and okay for now, that she has made a CHOICE to be where she is, and that her people radar has kicked in enough, at least, to override her stubborn nature and allowed her to see the danger.
I will turn my worries and fears and control over to the care of God/dess, and try to keep myself on the path to serenity. This is a journey. It matters what I do every day. But neither will I beat myself up unnecessarily. It is about progress, not perfection, and I am working on my own issues.
Thank you for your prayers and your love. It is all that which has brought this to be where it is tonight, of that I am sure. Keep them coming -- and I will hold you close in my heart and in my prayers as well.
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