Being Careful of Our Goals

We`ve been in renovation for a while now. Partly it`s because we moved into a "fixer-upper". And partly it's renovations from the tornado last year.

This morning over coffee, my husband remarked that there are lots of people that would be crazy living in constant renovation like this - that he was glad we weren't like that.

Hmm... The truth is that we are definitely kind of slack about these kinds of things. Maybe it was 17 years of living on a dairy farm where the work was never-ending has burned us out. Or maybe we're just too busy to get too wrapped up in it. But the truth is, I don't want to miss out on REAL LIFE because we've set a renovation goal.

I had a really weird thought last August on the day of the tornado.  As my daughter and I were coming up out of our basement and we saw the devastation all around us, it was horrible to see all of our neighbours' houses destroyed (ours only had minor damage).

Now, the mind is a weird thing and I don't know when I actually had this thought (and I know that this has nothing to do with them personally - that it's my stuff), but I remember looking across the road at our friends' house which was destroyed. It was a cute little wartime home that they had really spruced up inside - it was really lovely. Well, our friends were devastated. They had just grabbed their infant daughter out of her bed just in time before her room was filled with debris and glass. It was a horrible time for them...

And what goes through my mind? "Man, I hope that they didn't bust their butts getting the house cleaned and fixed up that morning."

I know it's sick and ridiculous. But that moment has haunted me ever since.

That thought haunts me every time I get antsy about getting a job finished. You know the time - when something in your brain says "You should get "this" job done. You just have to put your mind to it. You just have to get the kids helping. You just have to get your priorities straight. Don't you want to get this done? Wouldn't it be nice to live in a finished house?..."

But some days, I just don't feel like it... finishing just feels hard... I'd rather relax or hang out with the kids or go to the beach...But now, on those days when "The General" in my head starts to lecture me, I think about my friends' beautiful little house and I think, "What if we make ourselves miserable getting it done and it all gets blown away in a tornado?"

Eventually a day comes where we truly WANT to work on the renovations. And often, there is some interesting new thoughts that inspire us to do something slightly different than we would've done if we'd pushed and things turn out even better than we'd expected.

The truth is, I think that the destruction of the tornado and the suffering of everyone around us really helped me to get my priorities in line.

For the first six months, I walked out of my house into a war zone. For the last few months, thank goodness, it's a construction zone. And every time it reminds me how transient our "stuff" is. It reminds me to really focus on the things that matter - for me, relationships, personal growth and the pursuit of joy.

And sometimes that joy is truly painting a wall and laying new flooring. But it is definitely crystal clear when it isn't. And I'm not giving up ENJOYING MY LIFE just to get the job done. :)

Loving Ourselves Once and For All

Many of us struggle with self-worth issues. We spend a huge amount of time and energy trying to make our bodies look like something that we can be proud of. For some it looks like eating disorders. For others it's extreme workouts. It can even be done through extreme yogic discipline which gives it a righteous, spiritual twist - but it's a twist nonetheless.

For me, I wasn't so different from other girls who were obsessed with their body shape. My friends were all size 0 - I wasn't. I thought I was fat. I wasn't. But it started me on a rollercoaster of dieting, extreme exercise - even bulimia in my teens.

So, I am reading a book called "Body and Soul: Honouring Marion Woodman". What follows is an excerpt that describes a time in Marion's life when she was very anorexic and struggling with self-worth and so many of the things that many of us struggle with.

I found so much truth in this, I had to share it. Thank you Marion.

During her severe bout with dysentery in India, Marion had an experience that turned her life around. Too weak to stand, she fell on the tile floor of her bathroom.

How long I was there, I do not know.  I came to consciousness on the ceiling, my spirit looking down at my body caked in dry vomit and excrement. I saw it lying there helpless, still, and then I saw it take in a breath. ‘Poor dummy,’ I thought. ‘Don’t you know you’re dead?’ And mentally gave it a kick. Suddenly I remembered my little Cairn terrier. ‘I wouldn’t treat Gyronne that way,’ I thought. ‘I wouldn’t treat a dog the way I’m treating my own body. I wonder what will become of it if I leave it here? Will they burn it? Will they send it home?”
She wondered why her body wouldn’t stop breathing, why her spirit was not taking advantage of this opportunity to finally free itself: “I’ve been wanting to get out all my life. And here I’m out. All I have to do is take off,” she thought.
“Paralyzed by the immensity of my decision - either to leave my body there or go back into it - I saw it take another breath. I was overcome with compassion for this dear creature lying on the floor faithfully waiting for me to return, faithfully taking in one breath after another, confident that I would not forsake it, more faithful to me than I to it.
“All my life I had hated my body. It was not beautiful enough. It was not thin enough. I had driven it, starved it, stuffed it, cursed it, and even now kicked it, and there it still was, trying to breathe, convinced that I would come back and take it with me, too dumb to die. And I knew the choice was mine. Most of my life I had lived outside my body, my energy disconnected from my feelings, except when I danced. Now it was my choice - either to move into my body and live my life as a human being, or to move out into what I imagined would be freedom. I also thought of what a blow it would be to Ross, not to know what had happened to me, and did not want my body to be burned on the ghats in India. A profound shift took place: an overwhelming sweetness and love came into me for this poor thing on the floor.
“I saw it take another breath and there was something so infinitely innocent and trusting, so exquisitely familiar, in that movement that I chose to come down from the ceiling and move in. Together we dragged ourselves to the little bed. I did my best to take care of it. It was as if I could hear it whispering, ‘Rest, perturbed spirit, rest.” For days, perhaps nine days, I stayed in the womb of the Ashoka [hotel].”

Here's to loving ourselves, once and for all.

The lovely Marion Woodman.