I Celebrate Myself

“I live this way a lot, squinting around the bend, anticipating what I’m about to get. Don’t we keep expecting to get something? In particular, to get it? To figure it out? To reach a culminating resolution, reward, complete understanding, wisdom, clarity, closure, the right answer, the holy grail? That very expectation fills us up and weighs us down.”

~Karen Maezen Miller

As I reflect on the unrelenting urge that we should all pronounce a New Year’s resolution, I am dismayed.  

It’s as if the entire world has proclaimed us all as insufficient as soon as the ball drops at midnight.

I don’t like the pressure of having to change to be better. 

These goals - like losing ten pounds, signing up for a clothing subscription, eating more vegetarian meals, etc. - all begin with a chase. 

None of these are unimportant intrinsically. 

But it is the way we go about getting them which concerns me. 

It's like there’s a projection on the wall in front of us we must catch to feel good again after all the failings and insufficiencies we may have experienced in the past year. 

We think we will have it all figured out once we get there, like life will begin once we're there, that maybe we will be a better person than before.  

It’s true - it is important to endeavor to be more. But can’t we get there from a different starting place?

What I’m trying to say is this course of action has us beginning in a place of not good enough. And that’s simply too heavy a weight for me to bear any longer. 

Let’s resolve to not start our “new” life from a place of lack. 

This thinking distracts me from today. It keeps my head in the clouds instead of on the ground.

It diverts our attention from what is good, solid, and true today. It keeps us in a perpetual state of wanting. 

Perhaps because I am simply acting out of a place full of goodness and light and love, there will be a natural ease about my life. Maybe I can have faith in that. 

What you'll see is that your mind is always telling you that you have to change something outside in order to solve your inner problems. But if you are wise, you won't play this game. You'll realize that the advice your mind is giving you is psychologically damaged advice.  Of all the advice in the world that you do not want to listen to, it is the advice of a disturbed mind. Your mind actually misleads you. Suppose it tells you, "If I could just get that promotion, then I'd be fine. I'd feel good about myself, and I could get my life together." Have you ever found that to be true? After you get your promotion, does that end all your insecurities and leave you financially satisfied for the rest of your life? Of course not. All that happens is the next problem comes to the surface. Once you see this, you realize the mind has a serious underlying problem. And what it's doing is making up external situations that might make things more comfortable. But the external situations are not the cause of the inner problem....The fact is, however, external changes are not going to solve your problem because they don't address the root of the problem. The root of your problem is that you don't feel whole and complete within yourself.   ~Michael A. Singer

Maybe there is something supremely substantial in something so uncomplicated. 

Maybe I need to just stop pushing myself around the next bend and just keep my head in the present. 

Instead of working from a place of wanting more, maybe I just need to remember how good I already am, how much I already possess, how full my heart already is. 

I need my heart and my head working together to recall I am already satisfied instead of “I am empty, fill me.” 

My mind reminds me of this hunger constantly and in many different ways: I am bored, fill me. I am eager for adventure, fill me. I am tired, fill me. I am not a good writer, fill me. I don’t have the answer, fill me. I am not happy, fill me. I am not a strong person, fill me.

I want this wanting to cease. I want the chatter to settle. I want the constant searching for more to come to an end. 
I want to replace those yearnings for more with appreciation for less. 

I want to learn contentment. Maybe it's through the appreciation of the now that we learn to live with grace. 

I don’t want to set more goals for the future, I want to be at peace today. 

I want to squelch the cravings for more - more coffee, more doughnuts, more clothes, more money, more time, more ease - and just focus on being full.

I want to grow in satisfaction. If I keep tasting it, if I remind myself of what I already have, that will be enough incentive to keep seeking it instead of lack.  

This year I don’t need anything new - no new goals, no new diets, no new work out plans, no new clothes. I just need to remember the goodness, solidity, and the fullness of my self! 

These things are always there. These are the things I should no longer overlook because I am too busy looking beyond.  

I don’t want to continue to being content thinking about what I lack, my mind happy to focus on what’s wrong, where there’s no resolution, always wanting more and giving my attention to that each day. 

I want to choose contentment and simply feel the peace I know I deserve (like every single one of us deserves).  

I choose to be content with what I have, who I am, what I look like, the food in my pantry, and the clothes in my closet. 

If I focus on the shortage, scarcity, shortfall, I fail to be that person. I beat myself up. I say I will start again next week, next year, next time.

I lose more ground with all this mental fumbling around. Not only do I set myself back, it seems like I the finish line is pushed further away.  The divide between what is true and what I'd like to be true is widened. 

This gap will no longer engulf me. 

The lightness of being in the present feels good to me. If I look for more, I will be constantly dissatisfied. I will be heavy with the weight of expectation. 

So here’s to the fullness, abundance, depth I already possess. Here’s to not wearily looking forward around this new year’s bend, but slowing down and being enchanted with the now. 

What we pay attention to thrives. 

I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass...

There is that in me — I do not know what it is 

— but I know it is in me.

Wrench'd and sweaty — calm and cool then my body becomes,

I sleep — I sleep long.

I do not know it — it is without name — it is a word unsaid,

It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol.

Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on,

To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.

Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines! 

I plead for my brothers and sisters.

Do you see O my brothers and sisters?

It is not chaos or death — it is form, union, plan 

— it is eternal 

life — it is Happiness. 

~Walt Whitman

I Have A Little Faith In Me

Faith is a funny thing. 

We bought Lars his own deodorant since he is always playing with Michael’s. I guess he is fascinated with it because it represents something real in the adult world - we slather our bodies with stuff like deodorant, make up, lotions; we talk about how people disappear to a place called “Work” most days; and parents’ jobs include keeping kids safe - which he hears a lot from me lately. 

At least the last part I see Larsen is finally understanding, for he has started to make risk evaluations himself.

I think telling kids why it’s important to be safe - “we put the deodorant on our armpits” (or arms for Larzy which he thinks is his armpits) - “please don’t eat the deodorant - it could make your stomach hurt and we would have to go to the hospital if you swallowed it” - “its for keeping us smelling good while we perspire.” 

If this seems long winded to be telling a two-year-old, I know! Do you know what kind of patience this takes for a parent? I have to slow down and start telling him reasons before I get annoyed.

Description of the why is very important for kids I think. The whole “Because I said so” line I didn’t understand growing up. I wanted the truth even at age four. And some kids are just like that, and it’s ok. 

When we explain the true reason for something to kids, we are showing them some important things like respect, love, critical thinking, and even discipline (our guidance).

I’m always explaining. I’m always telling Larsen about the consequences so he will understand what could happen. I am always telling him it’s my job to keep him safe. 

And he’s finally understanding what that means! He gets it on the first time now! He is an amazing kid. They all are. 

People would sometimes look at me strangely when I would tell a one-year-old the stove is hot or we need shoes on to keep our feet safe or if we touch a light socket, it could shock us. Maybe people think there is no way a baby could understand these things, but he is always listening. They are always listening. 

What’s so satisfying to me about reasoning with a toddler is that the consequences I relate to him are all true. These things are important to know. They build his world. It’s my job as Lars’ parent to introduce him to the world - both the bad and the good, truthfully. 

Sometimes I can get heavy with fear, and I will let that fear seep over into Larsen. But fear is scary! I’m terrified now with a child that something bad can happen, or even the idea of his loss (even typing those words feels like a death sentence) overwhelms me more often than not. I have to remember to speak about the good too- that deodorant is a good thing as long as we don’t put it in our mouths, that people do come home from work, that parents keep us safe because they love us and want us to develop these skills on our own too. 

Yes, it’s my job to keep him safe. But I can only do so much. I am only a temporary gate keeper. 

In his early years, I establish rules for him. But I also establish times where I’m quiet and don’t have rules. I allow for his curiosity and abilities to develop all on his own. I choose to trust in him, to have faith in him. 

And with this, there is no idea of shame, of worry, or hopefully “he will learn better next time.” There are just true consequences devoid of my interpreted value on his decisions. There’s no “that’s good or that’s bad,” just “You did X and then Y happened.” Just the facts. He is connecting them all on his own. 

At first, it was hard for me to believe that - I mean how many times do I need to repeat myself?! It still is hard to trust he has the ability to make good decisions even at his young age. But he does. And I am utterly astonished. 

For me, once I read about how kids do not have a working brain like adults do and their impulse control is severely limited, my frustration of repeating “We put the deodorant on our arms. If we eat it, it could make our stomach ache” subsided and my faith in his abilities flourished. 

It takes about 30 days for adults to create new neural pathways, so why do we expect a two-year-old to do it immediately? I think it has taken Lars about three months! Sometimes it does take me telling him about the consequences every single day of each of those months. We've done it with dressing, potty training, and even walking down the street. 

His brain is making those neural pathways. It's working even though I might not get immediate results. It takes time for him to process these ideas and to have them imprinted in his brain. 

Ah - and what a valuable lesson it is for a toddler to start appreciating: He is responsible for his actions but mom and dad are here to help him navigate too. 

There is no hierarchy of knowledge (I'm the omniscient parent), no arrogance from a position of authority (I am superior than you because I know better), no fear about his questioning or doubts (If he questions me, then he is defiant). 

So it is through parenthood I have actually come to know more about my spiritual self. I love being a mother to Lars, but I love even more that he is a teacher to me. I love he shows me how to open my heart, even when I want to close it in a protest to fear. 

And it’s funny how the connection between parenting and my spiritual self has only begun to unfurl - not only by thinking or meditating on it, not only by praying on it, not only intellectualizing it, not only by reading more about it, but by living out my questions just as Rumi proposed: 

“...have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

I do wish faith was easier. I want all the answers given to me when I ask the questions. I think that’s what a traditional faith does for some. Sometimes the answer was given before the question was asked. 

I know we each have our own unique journey to faith. I am happy to be living out some of my spiritual questions. 

I want Lars to know there are good people in the world too. And I want him to be the good in the world as well. So I guess in a sense I'm teaching Lars how to fish instead of giving him a fish. 

Through being a parent, I now understand I have to have faith in humanity, not simply God. I have to trust in other people's hearts and abilities. 

We are all interconnected, what I do affects others - what they do, affects me. I know that for sure.  

I’ve figured out I want a spirituality that connects me with others in a deeper, trusting way. I seek a faith that does exactly what I give to Lars - someone/something to keep me safe but letting me find my own way, empowering me live out the journey without all the made-up reasons like “because I say so."

I have faith in Lars because he is developing on his own with the help of my parenting skills, hope because he will not forever be a child who strives to understand the world and his place in it. I am not limiting his potential because I need him to forever need me. 

I’ve only just started developing a trust in others, and it has begun with my son.