A Confession
THE THINGS WE (SOMETIMES) THINK ABOUT
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Vulnerability is not about fear and grief and disappointment, it is the birthplace of all that we're hungry for.
- Brene Brown -
This is personal.
I'm not sure when it started but I remember in my days of working corporate, opening up my computer, seeing a day of back to back meetings, and I wondered how I could either a) cancel them all or b) reschedule some or c) some version of a) and b) ...
==========
My first son was a brutal napper. After driving around town to get him to fall asleep, I would dream about leaving him in the car, as I went in the house to do a n y t h i n g but.
"Nap while the baby naps." is what I heard.
It wasn't a nap I wanted, it was time to myself.
==========
When I got COVID, I was so annoyed that the whole family got it all at the same time, I imagined, that if I got it, that at a minimum I'd be quarantined to some corner of the house where they'd leave me alone, and hopefully feed me.
Nope, I was still full-time mama while we all got sick together.
==========
These are just a slice of the ways I often think of stepping out of my life.
I don't dream of going anywhere but I do dream of leaving.
I regularly fantasize about walking out.
There, I said it.
I've harboured this dark secret for so long. And felt much guilt about it.
This need to escape the life I knew I loved but didn't want to be in sometimes.
And why couldn't I be that mom who could with such presence sit and play with her young kids for hours-on-end while I dreaded it at times. Just wanting to leave. To not.
==========
Perhaps it's a pathetic fantasy to simply want to walk out and it all ends there, just outside my closed door.
I don't have some exotic new life to run off to, (although sometimes I dream of driving to the airport and getting on a plane to anywhere), my fantasy was simply to open the door and leave.
Today, as a student of ease, I realize that this fantasy was simply my way of longing for ease.
For space.
For margin.
For breathing room.
To not be expected nor required to do anything at all.
This fantasy was never about leaving anyone or anything, nor a commentary about it, rather an inner cry (scream) to find my own self again, to hear myself breathe and be.
Is time for self the new love language?
I say an emphatic yes.
Time for self = ease.
Ease for me, means time and space minus any expectations to do for anyone, self included.
In that spaciousness I can re-connect to who I am and what I need in that moment.
Because there are just so few moments to break from the chaos of demands, expecations and a full life.
Ease is like a breath prayer.
Ease doesn't mean easier, at least not according to my definition, although this can result.
It's a way of being in our lives where worthwhile effort is given her proper place, and ease is her companion.
And so a longing for ease is about a craving for a new way.
I believe that ease is the next frontier of success.
After what seems like years of hard work, and martyring the cr*p out of ourselves, ease is balm to that way.
Ease is what will allow us to be in our lives in a more sustainable way.
It's more than just space, or room to breathe, it's about a relationship to the work, and ourselves. One where we hold reverence for ourselves and the effort we expend.
Do you long to escape your life?
If you do, you'll fine me there.
I still long sometimes to walk out the door, away from my house of men to..... (again, this is still where the fantasy ends). And I still sometimes look at the calendar mildly horrified about being over-scheduled (with only myself to blame), but the guilt has subsided.
I love my life, my people, my work.
I've discovered this secret fantasy I harbour has nothing to do with anyone, or anything, it's just reminding me to return - not escape - to me.