Standing Still

I have a saying that I use quite often in my life which is…when I don't know what to do, I do nothing or, I simply "stand still". This just means that when I am feeling lost, uncertain or feel as if my life has completely spun out of control, I literally do nothing….I stand still and wait for events to unfold around me…I make no choices. I take no action….because when my life reaches such a point; I know that I can no longer trust myself, my instincts or my judgment. So as to not make things worse for myself, I stand still and wait. I realize this may seem an inactive approach to life but it has been my experience that when one chooses to stand still and remain quiet long enough, a voice will speak to you. It's the small whisper of faith that emerges and lends a hand when your world is being turned upside down...

This method that I rely so heavily on is how I have learned to survive in a world where uncertainty is commonplace. Life can take the most unbelievable turns. It is capable of bringing you more heartache than you thought you could bear but it can also bring you the greatest of joys. My life has certainly had its share of ups and downs but all along the way, my faith is the one thing that has never truly abandoned me. Even in my darkest hour, on the most desolate road of this journey, I have felt that all things; good and bad, happen for a reason. And sometimes, I need to stop in my tracks, shift focus and rethink all that is before me, in order to gain the perspective I need to move forward. In the moments of standing still, I hold fast to that small whisper. It tells me to listen closely. It protects me and allows me to wait out the storm within a protective shell, of sorts. It's the whisper that offers me words when I can no longer find my voice. It gives me time to retreat and obtain clarity on all that is going wrong so that I can try to make it right again. Because with each moment that passes, each moment of pain or confusion, one thing is certain….life goes on. It stops for no one. So, the quietness of standing still provides solace and stability to my life when I have lost my way. I remain still so that others can move. Inevitably someone says something or does something that can change the path that you were on. In a split second, choices can be made and your life can take a completely different direction. I realize that my idea of "standing still" may not be a very brave way of walking through this world. But being brave has never been my strong suit anyway. I tend to pick up my running shoes and take off long before I am able to muster the strength to be brave. But as I grow older, I find that running away from the people or things that hurt me is not the answer either…so in these moments of such uncertainty, the idea of standing still was born.  

One would think that after living 37 years on this earth, somehow I would get used to the idea of change…that I would expect it or somehow come to rely on it. That this idea of standing still would be obsolete simply because I had learned to embrace change or at the very least, had come to expect a monkey wrench from time to time. But I haven't. I am still surprised by so many things. And as I stand still, I replay events, conversations spoken and choices made, hoping that in the midst of all the chaos, I would have taken a different path, learned my lesson and ended up in a different place from where I stand today. But I didn't. I am exactly where I left myself when I took off running. In my own defense though, I suppose we are essentially, all creatures of habit. We do what we do because it is what we are used to…what we are accustomed to. We do things; make the same choices because sometimes we just don't think we deserve any better. And sometimes, we simply don't know any better. They say that when you know better, you do better. I guess, I am a work in progress in that respect. During this time though, I certainly don't expect the world to stand still, for others around me to patiently wait as I do. I suspect that life will continue on in spite of everything and people will be braver in their lives than I have been. And although my method may seem strange or weak, I know precisely what I'm doing. I'm hanging up my running shoes. I choose to remain present in my life and to take the monkey wrenches as they come. And surely when I know better, I will do better. But until then….I will be right here….standing still.

Changing Seasons

As I sat here and began to write, somehow my focus shifted from one thing to another and it moved me in a direction I hadn't planned. I began thinking about the change in seasons. As the layers of summer begin to fade away and fall emerges, I am reminded of how the earth is constantly working. How it is able to peel back all the levels of the old and the dying and replace it with a fresh coat of life. The earth prepares itself for the upcoming cold and adjusts and shapes itself for months of hibernation. (At least here in New York) The roots buried deep beneath the surface will somehow survive despite being covered in a blanket of white. The trees and flowers will emerge again next year, growing taller and stronger even though they were once thought dead, having succumbed to the change. It was this thought that made me wonder if this strength, this resilience were true for ones' life. Are we, like the earth able to shift our lives, adjust and prepare for the changes that life can bring? Can we truly begin again, peeling back our own layers of the old and dying and replenish our lives, our spirits with something that will sustain us for a lifetime? This is my thought for today...

As I continued to ponder this question, my thoughts were unclear, but the more I thought about it, I knew the answer to my own question, without hesitation. I truly believe that although we may get knocked down from time to time, we inevitably pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and find a way to move on. We have the instinctive ability to be better, to do better and to make decisions that will, hopefully, bring us closer to something more fulfilling and more beautiful than we had thought possible. We have the ability to endure being wounded time after time and yet, even though the sting of heartache remains, we go on. Something in us stays put, feels the hurt and beckons for a new day. We are keenly aware that with each passing day, with each changing season, we will press on, not fully knowing what the new day will bring but still, we hope. We have the knowledge that as each day falls into night; we are one step closer to the path in which we were meant. I believe that we are like the roots buried in the ground. We may hibernate from time to time, hiding ourselves away in our own corner of the world, but in that stillness, in that darkness, we grow in strength and courage. We regenerate and regroup and come out fighting, once again. It is that same determination that keeps the roots alive and nourished. They have patience, for they know that waiting will allow them time to heal, time for rest and a time to gain back what was lost. They stay until they are strong enough to emerge once again. Just like us.

The Master Plan

Author and Professor Joseph Campbell wrote, "We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."  When I first stumbled across this, I confess, I didn't interpret it in the manner in which Mr. Campbell probably intended. I think he wanted to provoke optimism in the masses of people searching for proof that life goes on even if things don't turn out like we planned. I think he wanted to challenge us to envision a different kind of life. A life that perhaps was not planned but nevertheless showed up on our doorstep. But Instead of being filled with optimism and hope, I jumped from my small wading pool of safety into an overwhelming sea of uncertainty and regret. And for someone like me who essentially believes in destiny, fate, karma, and cosmic forces, you wouldn't even think I would have had a plan. But I did…once.

What I now like to refer to as my "Master Plan" was big and beautiful. I even wrote it down for someone once. Someone who cared enough to ask me what I thought about, what I dreamed about. My plan included small things like, learning to speak Italian, playing the violin and traveling to some foreign country. My plan also included more substantial things like, getting married again, having another child, having a house of my own, etc…I centered myself around these substantial dreams. These were all the things I thought I wanted. All the things I thought I should want. But I have learned an undeniable truth about myself: That I am not at all who I thought I was.

I suppose looking back, making those plans for myself was my way of trying to make all the things that had gone wrong in my life, right again. My marriage had failed. I lost my home. I lost the only stability I had ever known. All the dreams I once had, were gone. They were the very things that made sense of my life. The very things that made me, me. The only thing I felt I hadn't lost was my beautiful son but because of all of the mistakes I had made, I thought that I had also failed him. So, part of me grieved for that life, for the mistakes I made, for the choices I knew I couldn't change and for the pain I caused. And in that grief, my master plan emerged. I tried to identify the turning point, the place in which my life veered off course. I thought that if I could pinpoint where I had gone wrong, that somehow I would get another chance to do things right. I could start over again and put my master plan into motion. But there is a funny truth about life. It hardly ever goes according to our plans. It plays by its own rules. It has its own definitions and ideas of what our lives should be. It's filled with choices and options and consequences. It's filled with twists and turns which can toss you in directions you hadn't planned. 

Throughout my life but especially over the past year, I have taken many detours. But I have learned that taking detours, veering off your plans path, can sometimes bring unexpected joys.  Amazing things and amazing people that one might never have known but for the detours. Still I wondered. Despite the wonderful things that have occurred in my recent life, was I really ready to sacrifice my dreams, these plans that I had always known to be right for me, in order to share my life with someone who didn't hold the same dreams? Had I abandoned my own ship just to avoid being alone? Or was I simply willing to take a chance on someone, believing that he is worth the risk? Maybe the winds of fate are at work. Maybe I need to let go of the past, let go of who I thought I was and just fall…trusting that he will be there to catch me. Because what if loving him leads me towards different dreams, better dreams? What if all this uncertainty is mere preparation for a life I didn't even know I wanted?

I realize how lucky I have been in my life. Maybe I don't really need those plans to bring happiness to my life. Maybe I clung to those plans because I was afraid to imagine a different life. Maybe I was afraid that if I gave up those dreams, I would no longer know who I was. I'm sure that I am sacrificing something. We all do, in our own way. But I look around at what I have and I know that the choices I have made, the cards that have been dealt, have brought me to the exact place where I am meant to be. Sometimes I still think of my plan and I wonder, if at the end of my life, I will have regrets. Regret for the things I wanted to do and never did. Regret for the children I may not have. Regret for another chance at marriage that I may never get. But I realize that these things, these plans do not define me. They are mere ideas I once had, dreams I once dreamed and I have every right to change my mind. Life is a trade off. Sometimes you have to give up one dream to hold onto another. I'm sure from time to time I will still wonder about my decisions and I will wonder if I chose wisely. I may wonder if abandoning all I have known to take a chance on the unknown was worth it. But to question our decisions and to make mistakes is what makes us human so I journey into the unknown without hesitation. I realize that my belief in the power of destiny is very much alive and I have to take things as they come. I have to look at my master plan, not with regret or fear that I failed but rather as an opportunity to have a different life. I never know what will show up at my doorstep or what the winds of fate have in store for me. But I am learning to completely embrace that which appears. For the cosmic forces seem to be in full swing and maybe, just maybe, they know better than I.

My Circus

It's almost 6:00 in the evening. I just walked in the house after working my first job, my second job, going to the grocery store and picking up my son. I pour myself a glass of wine and collapse into the couch. I sit quietly for a moment and indulge myself by taking a long sip of this liquid tranquility. I look around at the dishes piled high in the sink, (didn't I already wash dishes today?) the laundry spilling out from my sons room into the hallway, a bathroom I didn't have a chance to clean yet, vacuuming that needs to be done and a dog that still needs to be walked. In the background, my child screams for a snack with such velocity, you would think he hadn't eaten in weeks. As he eats said snack, he casually asks me when dinner will be ready. I am in effect, exhausted and overwhelmed at the very sight of the surroundings which I call my circus.

At times, I find comfort in the fact that I do not walk this road alone. I walk it with thousands, maybe even millions of mothers, my circle of sisters that simply do not have another ounce of themselves left to give. However, at this very moment, such comfort is overshadowed by my own personal reality. Today, instead of standing among an army of women, I feel myself slipping into the solitary abyss.  As I sip my glass of wine, I hear the phone ringing. It is minutes after my arrival so I am certain it is my mother, checking to see if I have made it home safely. I know she will call back if I do not answer but at the moment, I can't get my body to move.  I take another sip of my peace and close my eyes to the chaos and noise. I count to ten very slowly thinking that simply by counting and making a wish, possibly all things waiting on me, will cease. I open my eyes moments later and look around again. No such luck.

Finally, I set my glass down, get off my comfy couch, take 3 steps and pick up the pair of shoes, the jacket, the power ranger and the backpack my son dropped at the door on his way in. I casually walk down the hall, open his door and deposit it on the floor in which it was intended. I look around his room in amazement that living amongst such filth is acceptable to him. Being a single mother, I have certainly learned to pick my battles. In these instances I try to remember that he is only nine and nine year-olds simply don't see the need for cleanliness. The more I try to explain to him that the reason he can't find anything is because his room is a pigsty, the more he assures me that there is more to life than a clean room. He thinks there are much bigger things to worry about. So, I digress and simply close the door to his hovel. I retreat to the comfy couch, take another sip and try to get a game plan together…

Dinner, dishes, laundry, bathroom, vacuuming, DOG! On a priority list, I realize that unless I want another "something" to clean up, the dog must come first. I am hopeful that the cool, winter air will clear my head and maybe prepare myself for the tasks ahead. I wonder as I trudge through the woods and the mud, what exactly happened to me? How did I end up here? It is far too much for my brain to interpret on a Monday evening. So I think only of the glass of wine waiting for me and the unending list of chores I must carry out before bedtime.

Upon my return inside, my son is standing at the door telling me that Nana called and once again asks me when dinner will be ready. I have already decided that I am not hungry but despite my lack of appetite, I realize that I must feed the starving child. I have two options. Option 1 is to cook a full meal, complete with a protein, starch and vegetable. But I know that no matter what I make for this child standing before me, he will find something wrong with it…something he doesn't like or doesn't recognize on his plate. Option 2 is macaroni and cheese. After standing in front of the open refrigerator for what seems like hours, I close it and choose Option 2. I decide that for tonight, macaroni and cheese is 1 of the 4 major food groups. After all, pasta is a starch and the powered cheese stuff must have some sort of protein in it, right? As for the vegetable, I can throw some carrot sticks on his plate and move on. Everyone is happy.

As the water boils, I manage to start a load of laundry; spot clean the bathroom and return the call to my mother. Not bad, I think to myself. As I watch my son eat, we chat about his day and he comes up with what he calls the ultimate plan. He informs me that the dishes, the laundry and all the other things that I am stressing about can be easily be abandoned. The cure for all my angst and worry can be alleviated by watching a movie and eating a big bowl of popcorn. I certainly wish life was that simple.

After dinner, I throw the wet clothes in the dryer, start another load of laundry, do the dishes, talk to my mother again and help Matt do his homework. I pour my second glass of wine and run around the house like a madwoman trying to accomplish my daily tasks. For I know if I let them go, if I do not make my house spotless, the earth will simply stop turning. Today is like so many other days; pure chaos with me smack dab in the center of my own little circus. And I begin to wonder, is this all there is to my life? My existence seems to be made up of a mountain of details, a list of chores, a mundane routine that I must follow to have some sense of order in my life. But the truth is, there is no order to my life. There is no sense in my life. Just details, lists and routine. Just a circus. And I begin to wonder if the beautiful working of a nine year- olds mind isn't more on track than my own.  I work and work and work, not just to maintain a clean home but to try and get ahead in my life. To have more, to provide a better life for my son. And in the process of working this hard and doing so much, the only thing I seem to accomplish is to make my life harder, crazier than it was in the first place. I essentially become the ringmaster of my circus and I drag my kid around in the lunacy. So, I stop for a moment and truly ask myself what will actually happen if I don't get all this stuff done today? What if I actually said no? The answer is simple. Absolutely nothing! So, I stop, take a deep breath and I decide that for today, I am done. I dump my glass of wine down the drain, yell for my son, make the popcorn and let him choose the movie. We both plop down on the comfy couch and settle in for the night. As we sit there watching a movie I have seen at least 20 times, I look at the floor that I forgot to vacuum and I smile. I tell myself not to worry. The dirt will still be there tomorrow and I can buy a ticket to the circus then.