Lord. Where have I been? Every morning I wake up and think, shit. I have a blog post to write. Then I think it again the next day, and then there’s so much to say that I sort of got overwhelmed and just put it off for a better time, another day I’ll be able to sit down, to concentrate for real. Then I can do it.
Ha ha ha. We all know how that kind of planning goes. But then! The children went to see their grandparents for Mother’s Day. My husband is at work. I’m having a huge Saturday night vegetable roasting party and I’m the only one invited so I can do whatever I want. Which means I can cook and write and go to sleep when I get tired. Word.
I finally funked right on out of my funk. Something that helped was this rock my therapist gave me in group the other week. Here it is:
I was talking about how I can’t get things to go the way I want or think they should and then we all nodded since I have “issues” with being a little….”controlling”? And then she gave me this rock, some slips of paper, and a rubber band. She said something like: “Write the things you’re worried/trying to control on the slips of paper. Rubberband them to the rock. Carry it everywhere. When you’re ready to let something go take it off of the rock until there’s just the rock. Then maybe be able to let that go too.”
I wrote my things: my mom. My dad. My weight. Money. Finding balance. Work frustration. Eating too much. I rubberbanded them to my rock and went to sleep with my rock next to me on the table by my bed.
I got up the next morning and went for a run: me and my rock and my worries. In my head I was bitching at myself for holding on to things, for being worried and not faith full. Chiding myself for not being able to do the rock thing right. Worrying about failing. In my in my head desperate voice I wailed to myself “But what if I fall???”
And then a voice, my own, but from way down deep inside of me said,
“What if I catch you?”
I sobbed in relief. Instant, overwhelming, blanketing full on full out relief.
I looked at the rock in wonder.
Then I remembered that I was in public, and running. And so I said a fervent prayer of thanks out loud straight up to the sky. Then I wiped my eyes and kept on going.
When I got back to the car I took the rubberband off of the rock and put the slips of paper in the door compartment of the car. I drove home with the rock in my lap.
I haven’t really carried the rock around since. My parents and I have made a gentle peace with each other- kind of like we were all wearing tight coats and then someone suggested we unbutton them. It still feels weird, but more comfortable. I am still too thinking about my weight, but I’m running, and rolling around on the floor doing yoga. I’m not eating too much on purpose. I gave up money worries because it’s May, or Saturday, or a bird chirped.
I’m reading this book. It’s changing my life. It came along when I was ready. Ready, just like I was ready for the rock. Ready for my voice.
Ready, after all these years, to trust myself again.