Fall Down, Get Back Up
When I was writing recently, I asked myself if I actually “walk my talk.” Am I authentic? Do I follow my own advice? Do I dedicate myself to a daily practice of the behaviors I espouse?
After some serious soul searching, I realized that, although I could be more diligent in enforcing detachment, acceptance, and letting go, I do strive to align my thoughts and actions to these goals. I’ve made significant progress over the years, but I still have days when I feel heavy and sad, and experience difficulty in applying the above.
I spent ten years with no contact with my grandchildren during which I did what I could to let them know I love them and that their missing grandmother was alive and well. I sent gifts, cards, letters or whatever I could think of that might be light and fun for the kids.
While my son and I are no longer estranged, we’re still quite distant from each other. Our lives are on vastly different tracks and we rarely even talk on the phone. It’s better than it was a few years ago, but I’m still treated as an outlier.
There are times when my heart hurts and my mind is a storm of rumination. I tumble down into the depths where my strength and resilience leave me. I feel like I’m drowning. When the cycle takes its course and the emotional squalls subside, I come up gasping for air. I take a few deep breaths. I renew my resolve to heal, let go, have compassion, monitor my thoughts, forgive, lighten up, compartmentalize, eat well, take a walk, have a laugh and get on with life.
I start over. Yet again.