The Gift of Grasping
When a part of us wants to grasp onto love, that part is showing us we can love ourselves more.
My Heart Burst
Today I just got to hold a little six week old bundle of love.
It feels odd to feel so full of gratitude to hold a child as I commence on my journey to write a book for women over 40 who did not have children. My friend (the new mom) took my picture as I snuggled my cheek against the head of her son. Her comment—“You look so maternal!” I felt maternal.
Odd again.
I found myself full of wonder at this little being and profoundly happy to be in his presence. And just yesterday I was feeling grateful that I could choose to take a nap instead of having to take care of kidlets. Literally, I was just thinking that thought the day before my heart burst.
Both/and.
Not even 24 hours after I was feeling so happy to have the freedom to make decisions based on my energy level rather than the needs of a child, I witnessed the gift of an open heart an infant brings. I felt like Kathy Perry’s video, where fireworks are coming out of her chest.
(I highly recommend watching this video, it brings a smile to my face every time.)
I found myself feeling almost guilty at how happy I was to hold the baby. How could I write a book about meaning beyond motherhood if I could go so ga-ga over a baby?
Luckily, I decided that thought was silly.
Life certainly is more interesting when we can hold the both/and instead of the either/or.
The Paradox of Grasping
Grasp onto only what you want to fly away. Test this with any cat or teenager.
Content versus Happy
I once had a boyfriend who told me “I’m happy, but I’m not content in this relationship.”
Huh? “Isn’t happy better than content?” I asked him. I forget what he said, but I didn’t understand it. We broke up. (Not, in case you are wondering, just because of that comment.)
Today, I finally got it. I’d had one of those days with both highs and lows in it. I realized I was content with the day. To me, “content” stems from an internal sense of balance. Whatever the world throws at me, I get to choose how to respond. “Happy” seems to be more externally or situationally driven. It can be more fleeting, depending on what is happening in my life.
Then it hit me…I’d rather be content than happy. I finally understand.
Thank you, Darrick, for planting that seed all those years ago.
Realization #1927
The more tightly I try to hold onto something I believe is mine, the more fragile my possession becomes.
What I Learned from my Curling Iron
Yep, my curling iron.
I recently bought a curling iron. I think the last time I used one was in college. I will spare you the details of how I made this momentous decision.
This morning, as I was happily transforming my hair from flat and slightly annoying to bouncy and fun, I realized that I was creating beauty through damaging my hair. I reflected on other ways we become more beautiful as a result of damage or pain. There are many.
Have you heard of the term “the wounded healer?” It basically refers to the wounds that are created through life, that later become the pathway to helping others heal from similar hurts.
Ask any good therapist about this.
I had a friend in grad school, Diane, who had a daughter with Cerebral Palsy. Diane declared she would not change her daughter even if she could. I must admit, I was surprised and asked her why. She told me her daughter had taught Diane and her family what was important and beautiful in life. A wounded healer.
There are others who lose a limb, or their vision, or some other precious thing, who end up living life more fully as a result. Think of the campaigns to end drunk driving, or find lost children, or raise money for cancer, that were started by people who faced painful losses. Most of us will not face losses so momentous, or create such wide-ranging works of goodness.
However, we each face our own hurts in life, small and large. It is our choice of whether to take the pain and use it to make us stronger and more beautiful. I know it helps me, when I am faced with a setback or a failure, to figure out how I can use the situation to become wiser, or something…anything to keep me from feeling sorry for myself. It helps me to live with less regret.
Geez, I wonder what thoughts I’d have if I had bought electric curlers instead…