WatchingTedLasso

This blog started as a place for me to process my grief after my husband, Charlie, passed away rather suddenly over two years ago now. It has sort of evolved into more of a digital diary and this post is more along those lines…

Once upon a time there was a happy little girl who knew not much of the world around her. She knew she was the apple of her grandparents eyes, she knew she was loved, well fed, well cared for; she had a roof over her head and clothes to wear (dresses if her grandmother had a say, tomboy clothes if our little girl had first choice). She had no understanding about the circumstances surrounding how she came to live with her father and grandparents – all she really knew, without expressly saying it, was that she had enough.

During my 1st meditation class this morning, the mantra was, “I am breathing, I am here.” Sometimes I need to take things that slowly and remind myself that I am breathing, that I am here. That I can catch the breath that tends to run away during the fight or flight response I find myself in far too often over these last few years.

This morning, as the instructor was saying, “I am breathing, I am here.” my mind shifted the mantra of it’s own accord to “I have enough. I am enough.” This is the magic of meditation that I am just beginning to discover. If I can stop focusing my attention on performing the meditation right or correctly or on what I think I should be doing, the mind and body take over and give me what I need.

I have enough. I am enough.

Here’s a not-so well-kept secret. Ever since our little girl in the story above began to learn more about the world around her, and the people in it, with their own stories and flaws, she did everything she could to please everyone around her. To continue to tap into those feelings of security, of well-being, of happiness. She thought that if she could do something, or be good, or perform well that those around her would be happy with her and in turn she could be happy.

Time after time, instance after instance, the world around our girl shifted and she learned that no matter what she did, or how she performed, uncertainties would leave her feeling insecure, questioning, worried, and anxious. She would do all she could to quiet these things: planning for every possible contingency to quell the “what ifs” and the “okay, but really what if..”, forming routines throughout her life to create a sense of order in the midst of a world seemingly filled with chaos. But she never really took care of herself. She never truly believed she was enough. Or had enough. The concept of “enough” was esoteric. It was a fuzzy, undefiend mirage that she was always striving for, never quite reaching.

And so, I’m beginning a new journey. To go back to that little girl who didn’t have to do or say or be any sort of way – she had enough, she was enough. To be the adult woman who is now in charge of the care of that little girl. To let that spirit whisper those truths relentlessly enough that the older believes it and takes matters to take better care of her self. I am enough. I have enough.