This Is Not About Mother’s Day

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Whilst I am a child and a mother I never write about holidays on holidays so I will just mention that there will be ice cream sundaes or banana splits, I don’t do restaurants on sappy days because I don’t like being annoyed, and it’s worth observing where your heart and gut go when mother’s day ads “for you and your Mom” appear once you have lost her to the great beyond.

The question of the week is,”Reader (insert your name), what would you love?”  Ask this in front of a mirror while looking yourself in the eye, for maximum effect.

I changed the art on the blog last week and the background image on my phone and sure enough things started to break open and move in a new direction.

Let’s not judge if the direction might be good or bad, sometimes “different” is enough.

There was a big announcement at the day job that might soon lead to lack of a day job.

That would be “different.”

A reminder that I am restricted – or so it would seem – by location, because the husband is not here to do one leg of the dropping off or picking up of children.  It’s almost impossible to cram a full work day in between those hours, and you end up feeling like a beggar who is trapped in a box most of the time when the good stuff needs to happen.  Usually with catty people who gossip about who isn’t working since they on-line shop all day.

But that is just a story I tell myself.  What if…I’ve been lying to myself the whole time?

A mistake was made at work, too.  It happened last week and I discovered it this week, just after the “final bell,” which made it impossible to fix without begging and strategizing.  I sat there for three very uncomfortable days wondering how this could have happened, because it seemed more like Magic had interfered and I couldn’t retrace it.  It was as if the Universe stuck a finger into a spreadsheet and said,”Delete.”

Makes you wonder why or how that could happen.  Makes you examine your unconscious beliefs and survival strategies.

Let’s imagine for a moment that wherever you feel restricted and stuck, you aren’t.

Suppose there are a thousand other potentialities, one of which belongs to you.

What if it met all of your needs while opening up the rest of your life to things you’ve been saying you were missing or didn’t have time for?

I am really good at seeing where other people are lying to themselves or stuck in their story.  Equally I am really good at knowing when things are breaking free for them – or about to break wide open – and sometimes I observe this happening even while they are telling themselves that same worn out story.

The difference is that they usually have opened themselves up to the infinite unknown, have set a intention but not set any parameters as to the way it must unfold.  So even though at moments they get stuck in their story, out of fear of the unknown, what they are not doing is trying to keep themselves safe or to control the situation by wishing they could go back to the ways things are/were.

They recognize that while some parts are still stuck or unhealed, there are parts that are ready to fly free and meet a new destiny.  There are parts that cannot be contained in their box anymore, they will not remain in the shadows, they see the light and they are shooting through the tunnel toward it.

The railroad car they are traveling up the hill like The Little Engine That Could is chugging out its I Think I Cans, which turn into I Know I Cans which, as we get closer to the light, become I Ams.

When you get to I Am you reach the tunnel’s end and either you get thrown from the car and bounce along some along the ground while shielding your eyes from the light, or your car slows to a top so you can step out gingerly into the grass.  But you do arrive.

Notice how you push or pull yourself along, what the details of your story are along the way.  Who comes to greet you or meet you or whisper secrets in your ear and who ignores you and lets you do your own work.  Who stands beside you and who gives you all the room you need.

Whether you’re a man or a woman, you do mother yourself.  Maybe badly, maybe kindly, but you do it.

I wonder what next greets us on this path?

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Comments

  1. Guess I need to start writing the details of my story, huh? (I know I do) 🙂
    Hope you have a happy Mother’s Day 🙂

  2. Hang in there, Julie. I think you can. I think we both can, as a matter of fact. 🙂

  3. Laura Gallagher says:

    My train is running the rails and heading yes …..heading somewhere., thank you Julie for letting go the brakes….its exhilarating!!

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