Let Go of the Struggle
If you’ve been reading my blog or following me on social lately, you’ve probably recognized that I have been having a tough time. The three littles, plus sparse sleep, plus unrealistic expectations, the sickies and whatever else were rocking my world.
On Sunday I took a few hours to myself outside of the home to come back to center. And I want you to know, just as an aside, it was not granted to me. I was met with resistance about it. I was told not to be gone too long. But the wise me said, “I’m going. I need it, and I will be back when I’m ready.” So I want you to hear, DO NOT WAIT FOR THE NONEXISTENT INVITATION TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. I’m telling you. It doesn’t exist. It’ll be clouded in guilt, or resistance, or shame, or hell, for most of us, the invitation will never show up in any form. So just claim it and get the heck out when you need it. Period. End of sentence.
Anyway, while a valid point, it’s not the point of this blog today. Now back on track.
So Sunday I took my time. What did I do, you ask?
I ate, and I listened to some
podcasts. There’s one podcast I’m really hot on right now, and that’s Danielle Laporte’s, “With Love, Danielle."
She is so wise. Her voice is smooth like butter, and I just cannot stop feeling like, “Yes girl. A(wo)men. You feel me. Thank you. You’re so right.” She blows me away on the regular. So on Sunday, one of the epidsodes I listened to was about when (not) to give up. I have no idea why. I feel like I don’t even have anything going on in my life to give up on right now, but I wanted to hear her soothing voice and brilliant wisdom nonetheless.
Also, I'm pretty sure God and my angels showed up to direct me to this episode because that's how my life seems to work. And the more I tune into that, the more it happens. (Same for you, too, btw, but you just might not know it yet.) Anyway, my peeps were like, "Hey Amy, we see you, on the edge of insanity with no idea how to get out, so here's a little gift for you." And boom. A gift it was indeed.
GIVE UP THE STRUGGLE.
I was raised by Mr. Positive Thinker. I did my master's degree in Sport Psychology. I get that being in a negative place isn't the best thing in the world. I was groomed to live, eat and breathe positivity. BUT, I also learned (and this was much later on after a long run of pretending to be grateful for everyone dying and my world being set on fire), that there's a time and a place for honoring the gunk. Don't pretend that the shit isn't hitting the fan when the shit is hitting the fan. Just stop for a minute and be like, "Oh, whoa, the shit is hitting the fan, and it stinks." Do that, or else you'll be covered in shit with a fake smile on your face. So acknowledge the shit. But just don't stay in the shit.
So, back to the struggle. I had been in the place of the shit for a while. Three kids plus staying at home full time without any help was kicking my arse. The struggle looked a lot like, "Hey, I'm in the shit. And there's more shit coming at me. And I'm just sure that there's going to be more shit all night long so that I wake up feeling like shit and then have to deal with three little shits and a big shit, and then yup, more shit again. And now I smell like shit and look like shit, too. See, I told you. So much shit here, people, so much shit." Anyone feel me?
So I was in the shit. In the struggle. And I was listening to the podcast, and it said something to the effect of
"What if you let go of the struggle?"
And it just hit me. So hard. Like yeah, what if I let it go?
You see, there are times when I get into it with my oldest daughter. She is five. And she is me, so she triggers me, and she can send me into an intense fit of rage that it frightens us both. And there are times when I just can't leave it alone. I get so mad that I can't stop talking about all of the things that she's done that have made me mad. I am just vomiting red fiery words everwhere and they are sprinting after anyone and anything in my war path. Even my dead cat sometimes. It can get intense.
So Sunday, when the concept of letting go of the struggle came to me, it put a stop to that madness. Thank God. Instead of seeing words of hot lava spewing out of my mouth, I started seeing a little black smoke monster dancing in front of me. (Weird, I know. But stay with me. I think in images sometimes.)
He was the struggle. And he looked at me like, "Hey crazy lady, want to dance? I've got a really important struggle over here. With your powerless five year old, by the way. Ya big bully. I have a big fat struggle served with a plentiful side of shame and remorse, and it's got your name on it, crazy lady. Come on, want to dance?"
And for the first time I was able to look at him, and be all calm and cool (okay, okay, with a bit of a shaky voice) and be like, "Aw, nah, no thanks. Not this time. I'm good. I'll pass." And then I let go of the struggle.
I mean, it's only been a week. But it's been a powerful week. Letting go of the struggle has helped me so much. I have gotten mad. I have asserted some fiery words. But I've only said a few, then I saw that little black smoke monster inviting me to tango, and I've said no. And I've let it go.
(Sorry, I have little kids. I couldn't resist. And you're welcome for having this song stuck in your head for the rest of the day. 😂😂😂)
So I'm encouraging you to let go of your struggle. Meet yourself with compassion, and don't feel the need to carry on down the path. Stop yourself. Breathe. You don't have to continue on with the struggle. You don't have to save face. You don't have to find more reasons to be mad or find someone to blame because you're embarrassed you've lost your cool ten minutes ago. Acknowledge the upset but don't hang on to it. Notice when it arrives but allow it to pass...or last a little less long. And compassionately, sincerely, ask yourself, "what would that be like if I let go of the struggle?"