(no subject)
Open letter to single moms:
If you google “inspirational quotes” there’s a good chance you will read Charles Swindoll’s thoughts on how life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it, which sounds awesome coming from an educated married man. I would really like to know how often he did dishes at midnight when his kids were growing up.
I’m not saying that attitude isn’t important, I’m just sick of people telling me that it’s the only thing, and that it can conquer everything that’s in front of you.
There are some bad days, and weeks, that win over attitude. Those days, where you find yourself sitting on the stairs with your head in your hands, or daydreaming about letting your parents adopt your kids and becoming a waitress on the other side of the continent; those are the days when ‘good attitude’ is going to be a really thin safety net.
There’s no attitude that’ll get you through a really dark patch.
What you do have is muscle memory, that ability to do something simply because you’ve done it so many times before.
Get off the stairs. Splash water on your face, blow your nose, and go do something. I don’t care what, but clean something or make something.
Pick flowers and put them in a cup on your table. I hear Dandilions are the new Carnation.
Bake some cookies. To hell with your cholesterol and the food groups - your soul needs something warm and sweet. Your arm knows how to stir a wooden spoon in a chipped bowl. Your kids will wander in. Let them help, even if you’re still angry with them. You don’t need to talk, but kissing their forehead, or putting an arm around their waist, isn’t a bad idea. Have some cookie dough. Just have an apple, or some bread next, k? I know, the cupboard is bare, but you can find something. There’s a dusty can of something. I know you: you’re too afraid of your kid being hungry for the house to be truly empty. If it was, you’d have already gone to the Food Bank. A long walk, and you shoulders ached for carrying the bags home, but even at your lowest you have the power to do something. That’s a good ache.
Make your bed. Clean sheets are nice, but maybe laundry day needs to wait another two weeks until payday, but you can hang your pillow cases in the bathroom while you shower. Steam will refresh them. If there are tear marks you can wash them by hand while you shower. Your fingers know how to scrub cloth in a bathub, and they are strong enough to wring out almost anything. Hang them to dry near a window with a fresh breeze if you can. When they are dry iron them, if you can, and then make your bed. It’ll feel good to get into, even if it’s not perfect. You know this. You’ll never have perfect, but cared for is in your reach.
While you’re in the shower, wash your hair. I don’t care if it’s with a bar of Ivory soap, you’ll feel better for it.
Take out the trash.
Pick up all the recycling and junk and cans and toss them, if you can. While you are at it, is there any other trash in your life you can deal with? Parents who say you’ll fail? Friends who are thoughtless? Maybe somebody you’re dating who is making things harder? Maybe an old love who could pass your on the street without recognizing you? Your life, like your space, will be better empty than filled with litter.
E-mail someone who loves you, and tell them you need to hear it, though you’ll phrase it in a more “hey, wanna grab coffee?” way. You taught your child to speak, you KNOW how to communicate. You’re just rusty. You probably don’t even need to tell them that you feel sad and fragile, they will figure it out. They love you after all, and that makes eyes and ears keen.
Go to the library. Despite Mayor Fords' best efforts you’ve still got one walking distance, if you don’t mind walking a few kilometers in the damp. Tell the librarian you need a book with a quest, triumph and a happy ending. If you have fees there and can’t borrow the book, explain that to the librarian. Nine times out of ten they will put it aside for you somewhere secret, with a bookmark and a caring smile, so that you can stop in once a week and read a chapter. Let your child pick a book to read, new one every week. The chairs there don’t have ‘no loitering’ signs above them, so get comfortable for a little bit. If your little one is little enough, pull them onto your lap. Books sound better when you are on, or under, a comfortable human.
Go somewhere sacred - either internally or as a destination - and breath until you feel strong. You can breath - you’ve been doing that your whole life. Breath in nature, unless you have seasonal allergies, in which case meditate in an air-conditioned mall. Retail space can be sacred, if you go with empty pockets and a sense of wonder. . The birds in the Eaton center may LOOK trapped by their situation, but even in suspension look at their grace.
This too will pass.
Use your muscles.
You know that things will change. Two weeks from now you’ll be paid, the weather will break, the scratches from the cat will heal, you'll get cable back, you'll do a grocery shopping and laundry in hot, hot water, and things will be easier for a while. When you get there, enjoy it. It never lasts long.
Stand up, start moving. You can do this.
After all, when other people sit down, you stand up. It’s one of your defining qualities, and should not be overlooked, as skills go.
If you google “inspirational quotes” there’s a good chance you will read Charles Swindoll’s thoughts on how life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it, which sounds awesome coming from an educated married man. I would really like to know how often he did dishes at midnight when his kids were growing up.
I’m not saying that attitude isn’t important, I’m just sick of people telling me that it’s the only thing, and that it can conquer everything that’s in front of you.
There are some bad days, and weeks, that win over attitude. Those days, where you find yourself sitting on the stairs with your head in your hands, or daydreaming about letting your parents adopt your kids and becoming a waitress on the other side of the continent; those are the days when ‘good attitude’ is going to be a really thin safety net.
There’s no attitude that’ll get you through a really dark patch.
What you do have is muscle memory, that ability to do something simply because you’ve done it so many times before.
Get off the stairs. Splash water on your face, blow your nose, and go do something. I don’t care what, but clean something or make something.
Pick flowers and put them in a cup on your table. I hear Dandilions are the new Carnation.
Bake some cookies. To hell with your cholesterol and the food groups - your soul needs something warm and sweet. Your arm knows how to stir a wooden spoon in a chipped bowl. Your kids will wander in. Let them help, even if you’re still angry with them. You don’t need to talk, but kissing their forehead, or putting an arm around their waist, isn’t a bad idea. Have some cookie dough. Just have an apple, or some bread next, k? I know, the cupboard is bare, but you can find something. There’s a dusty can of something. I know you: you’re too afraid of your kid being hungry for the house to be truly empty. If it was, you’d have already gone to the Food Bank. A long walk, and you shoulders ached for carrying the bags home, but even at your lowest you have the power to do something. That’s a good ache.
Make your bed. Clean sheets are nice, but maybe laundry day needs to wait another two weeks until payday, but you can hang your pillow cases in the bathroom while you shower. Steam will refresh them. If there are tear marks you can wash them by hand while you shower. Your fingers know how to scrub cloth in a bathub, and they are strong enough to wring out almost anything. Hang them to dry near a window with a fresh breeze if you can. When they are dry iron them, if you can, and then make your bed. It’ll feel good to get into, even if it’s not perfect. You know this. You’ll never have perfect, but cared for is in your reach.
While you’re in the shower, wash your hair. I don’t care if it’s with a bar of Ivory soap, you’ll feel better for it.
Take out the trash.
Pick up all the recycling and junk and cans and toss them, if you can. While you are at it, is there any other trash in your life you can deal with? Parents who say you’ll fail? Friends who are thoughtless? Maybe somebody you’re dating who is making things harder? Maybe an old love who could pass your on the street without recognizing you? Your life, like your space, will be better empty than filled with litter.
E-mail someone who loves you, and tell them you need to hear it, though you’ll phrase it in a more “hey, wanna grab coffee?” way. You taught your child to speak, you KNOW how to communicate. You’re just rusty. You probably don’t even need to tell them that you feel sad and fragile, they will figure it out. They love you after all, and that makes eyes and ears keen.
Go to the library. Despite Mayor Fords' best efforts you’ve still got one walking distance, if you don’t mind walking a few kilometers in the damp. Tell the librarian you need a book with a quest, triumph and a happy ending. If you have fees there and can’t borrow the book, explain that to the librarian. Nine times out of ten they will put it aside for you somewhere secret, with a bookmark and a caring smile, so that you can stop in once a week and read a chapter. Let your child pick a book to read, new one every week. The chairs there don’t have ‘no loitering’ signs above them, so get comfortable for a little bit. If your little one is little enough, pull them onto your lap. Books sound better when you are on, or under, a comfortable human.
Go somewhere sacred - either internally or as a destination - and breath until you feel strong. You can breath - you’ve been doing that your whole life. Breath in nature, unless you have seasonal allergies, in which case meditate in an air-conditioned mall. Retail space can be sacred, if you go with empty pockets and a sense of wonder. . The birds in the Eaton center may LOOK trapped by their situation, but even in suspension look at their grace.
This too will pass.
Use your muscles.
You know that things will change. Two weeks from now you’ll be paid, the weather will break, the scratches from the cat will heal, you'll get cable back, you'll do a grocery shopping and laundry in hot, hot water, and things will be easier for a while. When you get there, enjoy it. It never lasts long.
Stand up, start moving. You can do this.
After all, when other people sit down, you stand up. It’s one of your defining qualities, and should not be overlooked, as skills go.