Yeah, I'm not talking about the Catholic "Limbo" here, that's a whole 'nother discussion.
I'm talking about "How low can you go?" And, of course, as usual, I'm talking about me.
You see, everybody keeps asking me "How is it going?" And I can honestly say that it's not what I expected, even as it is in so many ways what I expected. Confusing, no? Yes.
This is the most challenging thing I've ever done, but not actually because of Marta. Marta, so far (and I am fully aware of the whole "honeymoon" concept, no worries), has been nothing but amazingly sweet, nice, helpful, happy kid. Really, no big demands, no major meltdowns, a few small ones from being scared, nothing. She needs and craves love and affection and knowing she is secure in the family, but that is nothing but a time need. The lack of common language is, well, ridiculous, but that can only improve, right? No choice there.
No, this is the most challenging thing I've ever done, all because of me.
You see, this is my own personal limbo contest....just without the cute bikini. (Although I think often about adding the fun libations.....kidding. mostly). The limbo requires strength, balance, coordination, a brave spirit and sense of crazy fun. It also makes most folks fall right down on their fannies.
And, yup, I now get the fun game of seeing just 'how low can I go?' Problem is this "low" is not so fun and its a lot more than a simply pratfall from lack of strength and balance.....That is to say, my struggles are internal and honestly, in many ways they are a spiritual battle of my will versus, oh, anyone's, and my control freak type A nature. It is my falling into the icy grip of fear and a good imagination. To be precise, it is a lack of faith and trust. Period.
I know, I know, I have written on this before. But I want to shout, those posts were fine for then, but this is now. Totally different.
Right....{yes I am, it seems, a hypocrite}.
Those posts talked about this struggle and the grip of fear, love as an action not feeling, and the transformation in the struggle and the suffering. But you know, that's all fine and well AFTER the fact to think those things. It's another thing to embrace them in the midst of it all now isn't it? Because you know, struggle, change, even suffering (on any level, even the most minor)....it HURTS. Hence, the term: suffering. Right? And you know, we wimpy folks out there, by which I mean me, we don't really like to suffer, hurt and so on. I mean, it's one thing to say, I'm tough and I can take it. But really, when you step on that nail or heck, get that unexpected paper cut, you might just cuss and holler and whine, right? Ok, well, I might. Ok, maybe I do.
A good friend has pointed out that it's like a little Rumpelstiltskin tantrum. And she's right. Because it, my struggle these past few weeks, has been all about ME. I just really want things to be ok and normal again; my way, my timing, my ideas of what it should be like, my plan, MY FEELINGS. Me, me, me. My ideas are not playing out in the timing I would like, my body is being knocked back again and again with one variety of illness or migraine or something after another. The order I placed for a smooth transition: good health for all, full of overflowing feelings of bounty and joy, everything clicking into place.....oddly enough hasn't happened yet. Funny that.
And so I have been having a Rumplestiltskin time. {I am Rumpelstiltskin, old middle aged girl version, maybe I should change my screenname....} And it's hard and not a fun place.
But this week, I am also seeing something else. Not only have I seen a glimmer (and I don't even want to THINK about seeing further) about how low I can go....{ Shocking, I tell you. Utterly, heartbreakingly, humbling.}...
But I have seen what can happen when you get there. To your, ok my, lowest point. Because, oddly enough, even there, there is a beauty. And once again, that beauty is in the others. And that makes my heart be able to lift up again.
I have found myself laid flat by illness and fear, simply hitting my break point. And I have seen my husband and sons and friends (near and far) reach out to help lift me up. That's no easy task! But they have all reached out, grabbed me and helped me stand up again - literally and figuratively. And they are still here, helping me, holding on. And they let me see that despite my tantrum of wanting everything just so, on MY time and in MY way, it's not necessarily about that. And it's ok to wait for it to play out. And to try to trust.
Simple huh? Sure. But not so much, not for me.
So, if you ask how it's going I will still say this is one of the hardest things I've ever done.
But the gratitude I have for so many is some of my deepest.
So, I guess it's going just like it's supposed to.
It's hard, it hurts, I'm useless on my own.
It's great, she's sweet, the kids are amazing.
It's a huge change.
But I also have helpers.
And I'm grateful. Even as it's hard, challenging me on so many levels and putting a klieg light on my every failing...for what this brings....I'm grateful.
And I am looking forward to the luau without the limbo.....
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