I’ve had an interesting few weeks. It has been interesting to have some time off, some more free time, spare time, but nowhere to go. This suits me just fine, but it was interesting to see how many internal toddler tantrums I had with the process during it. Yes, I purposely said ‘interesting’ three, now four, times in a row there. In medicine, the collective we tend to say ‘interesting’ when something is either not good or has us completely puzzled, i.e. we often say it when we are slightly miffed.
The weeks have been good without a doubt, but at times I felt very much, not good.
The weeks have puzzled me.
Interesting.
I want to share with you a few things that were said to me over these slowed down weeks:
“You ARE doing it”
“How are you holding up?”
“Tell me more”
“Throw it all to the wind”
“Surprise them”
“They’re great. Sharp. Like their mother”
“More than I think you realize for me”
“Be safe, Jenn”
“Good morning, my love”
All these utterances had different contexts. They were all from different people. Each of them stopped me in my tracks.
I can’t tell you the story of each, I couldn’t come close to doing them the service they deserve, but I’ve been wondering about what their common threads are. I am not sure I am going to be able to articulate them here at all but let me try.
Back when I was musing about Mastery versus Perfection, I noted that there was still a 20% that I was still interested in reaching for. Part of that 20% is more connection, the universally common desire, of course. However, I don’t do awesome with friendship. Something about not recognizing when it is desired, assuming I need more out of it than someone can give, assuming I can’t give what is needed for someone else, not understanding how to have intimacy in friendship but deeply desiring it, and so forth. Some might say, I overthink things (ahem.) As I said, I don’t do awesome. But these weeks, I’ve been doing better. Perhaps dear Covid, by mandating distance, has unexpectedly given me the gift of a little buffer and thus, a bridge, to tip toe back into this need. Because, despite the perpetual wondering of what the hell I was doing, why do I even have social media, why do I put the additional pressure of writing on myself, and why must I share it etc. etc. my phone kept lighting up with message after message. And they were genuine and beautiful. So then, ok, fine, I surrendered, let’s just agree (me and myself) that we must be doing okay. Carry on.
Another common thread was a bit of an understanding about what it is that I am meant to do here. And when I had this realization, I literally meant, there, in that chair, morning after morning, seemingly doing nothing at all and often getting really frustrated with myself about it. So many tantrums. “Just get up!” “At some point you actually have to do something!” “Why are your runs now happening at NOON?!” My poor husband. But that morning it occurred to me that what I have been doing here these last days, in fact these last eight months, is gathering my things. Gathering my rituals, my talismans, my materials, my reinforcements, and my thoughts. I’ve been practicing what I preach with such urgency, I’ve been getting to know myself, befriending, nurturing, falling in love. I have known that part, in a way for a while now but what I hadn’t understood it that its purpose wasn’t just to help me, but others too. Others mostly.
My brother once said to me “I just want to be on stage!!” to which I immediately responded as if possessed, somewhat surprised to hear myself, “Not me, I just want to be backstage.” What was equally surprising to me in that moment is that I also immediately understood that what I meant was not that I feared the stage, but that to me backstage was magic. I don’t want to be the star; I want to write their lyrics. This, I now better understand, is how I want to lead. I want to be at home, under a blanket, understanding our vision and clearing the path while you go out there and do all the show stopping. I picture you running on a vast mountain trail, shield on your back, sword in your hand and me, nimbly and secretly clearing rocks and twigs from where your feet may fall. Carry on.
So, it was a good three weeks, actually a really great three week. I do hope there is more in store. For now though, I am grateful for better understanding and renewed gentleness. I get that I have tears as a talisman. I worship my beautiful den from which I can guide and way find. And I know, at least for today, that what it is that I am doing is connecting me deeply to those who to do it too.