A long weekend without many plans. So much time to get things done; do a bit of work, serve at church, work around the house and relax.
Sleep in.
Play with the dogs.
Take care of the caterpillars and butterflies.
Swim in our pool.
Quiet, nice relaxing, low key weekend.
And then your one real plan of the weekend gets canceled and you realize everyone else has plans with their families.
Their families with kids.
That irrational, inner critic voice inside your head whispers,
Get used to this, you’ll get canceled on the the rest of your life for the fun with the families with kids.
Everyone will always be too busy with their kids to fit you into their calendar.
The shame, the sadness and that dark sense of being left behind settles in.
Of course, I know this is not my truth but the fog that can easily move in from shame hovers over me almost the entire weekend; enveloping all of me if I am not careful.
Of course, there is the bigger part of me that has enjoyed the quietness of this weekend. The quality time with Chad and the dogs, butterflies and caterpillars. The time to finally work around the house and on my writing with some time off of our regular work schedule.
But I struggled a lot to take my usual deep knowing breath and puff away the fog, even through this gratitude and joy.
And once again I am reminded that this lifelong journey will always be bittersweet; the complicated grey.
After writing and talking with Chad I realize that mostly I am lonely and I need to do a better job with connecting rather than allowing my shame to disconnect me.
And I need to practice my shame resilience through writing, connecting and practicing my mothering.
But most of all, I need to honor and fight for myself by completely shattering the foggy darkness by speaking it.
