It's Monday again. The grade for the weekend=C. These days find me grim and determined, taking care of business which is tremendously gratifying but not a tonic for fun. The F word eludes me. Sometimes, though, I think we go through periods of our lives that just aren't that much fun, where we are attending to infrastructure, shoring up the levees, putting "money" in the bank for the future. That's what it's about these days for me. TCB - making an investment in myself, working on the first three habits, striving for personal victories. But lest you forget, Sarah DOES= fun. I am better than anyone at just chilling, making an instant party, taking care of the ones I love, living easy breezy in the moment, delighting in simple pleasures. My mind isn't always so grim and agitated as it is these days. This is an uncomfortable, but, I think, necessary stage. I tell myself that when fun comes my way again, I will have earned it and because my shit is solid (I am spending a lot of time with Madeleine these days - can you tell I'm starting to talk like a 19 year old?) I won't be so worried that a) I don't deserve it or b) it will dissipate at the drop of a hat. My foundation will be solid for the first time - I'll have a bottom line that won't fail me.
Yesterday, ah....a baby. Oh, my..I forgot just how much I love babies. Babies=heaven. Carol's granddaughter, Carlee. We watched her while her parents went to a matinee. She was not delighted to have them gone - pissed actually, and we had our hands full trying to keep her from incessant weeping. Carol calls me the baby whisperer. I have just the right way of holding them (the football hold which is head in the crook of your elbow looking out and their body stretched along your forearm with your hand gripping their crotch). I also sang nonstop to her - she adored it, her favorite song, Stormy Weather. Carol liked my new wrist-slashing, Sondheim songs the best. It was a lovely afternoon, catching up, Carol oohing and ahhing over her basket of birthday goodies and then the deliciousness of Carlee. I went home and all but demanded grandchildren from my girls. They were not amused.
Got thinking about babies. One fact I've always found sad is that babies spend the first three months of their life JUST trying to be comfortable. They are, for the most part, not happy campers to be out of the womb where sounds are muted, it's dark, they are never hungry, constipated or colicky, they are always the right temperature and they are held close 24X7 inside their mother. What a drag it must be to lose that comfort and be thrust into a too bright, too noisy, to cold or hot, hungry, tummy-aching world! I thought about the role parents play in introducing just the right amount of discomfort to a child at age appropriate times. The new crying baby gets rushed to. The older baby is expected to wait a few minutes while you finish up your chore - to self comfort themselves to sleep through the night. I remember my sister's struggle with her child and how she now agrees she worried too much about his physical discomfort beyond an age appropriate time. I remember, when he was three a visit to her. I noted with astonishment her rushing to him, when he woke from a nap with a cup of warmed milk. She never wanted him to be uncomfortable for one second.
A friend recently asked me to pick her daughter up from a class trip and be there when her bus arrived even though the arrival time of the bus was uncertain. I had suggested the girl just call me from a parent's cell when she arrived and wait the five minutes for me to to fetch her. My friend balked at the suggestion, saying her daughter would be crabby and anxious to have to wait five minutes for a ride, that all the other children would have parents waiting for them. The girl is 13. In some cultures she would be married by now!
And really, this is the crux of things - the need we have to self-regulate that starts the moment we're born. For the first three months, we learn to adjust to environmentals. For the rest of our lives, we learn to adjust to all sorts of discomfort. I'm still trying to get it right. What I've observed about myself and others is that it's really, really hard to manage our own discomfort. If you're like me, you look outside yourself for a solution - anything to quell the edgy feelings. All too often we seek gratification from the outside world: substances, sex, food, pleasure in any form, reassuring conversations, therapy, procrastination, sleep. It's like we're a baby rooting for a nipple - once we latch on, we sigh contentedly. We get a fix and we feel good for a bit of time, for as long as the good feeling lasts, but soon, the uncomfortable feelings return and we're looking for the next thing that will bring us peace. I call these things Trojan Horse comforts - they are Chinese food activities - they don't stick to your ribs - they don't bring long term relief.
I suspect genuine peace comes by looking within ourselves for comfort. It's like the difference between carbs and protein. You eat a bunch of carbs and you get an instant feeling of well-being - brain chemistry calms and life is good for an hour or two. Then the cycle repeats - discomfort, more carbs, relief and then anst revisited. If, instead, you ate a protein snack, you wouldn't get the same rush - the positive effect would feel less dramatic but your brain chemistry would stabilize and provide a slower drip of goodness. Looking to yourself for what you need is not nearly as much fun as seeking pleasure in other people and substances, but it's that same slow drip of goodness. It won't backfire on you. Your own internal resources are always there to tap into. I'm thinking steady self regulation=true happiness. The fun will come in due time.
Challenge today is to think about your own discomfort. What do you do when you get edgy, lonely, angst-filled? Do you flail around for a solution outside yourself? Look for comfort in someone's arms, dull the edginess with food, drink or substance? Numb yourself out with TV? It's that discomfort thing. We are not babies - we shouldn't be rooting for the nipple when we feel edgy. There is no external solution that works in the long run. If you see yourself in this post, then you are in good company - we are, most of us, works in progress on this front. Seeking comfort from within is not easy - it's not intuitive and it doesn't provide the same kind of high as external comfort. Sigh. It's hard to be a grown-up sometimes. I think I want my Mommy.
Peace,
Sarah
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