Most days, certainly for some moments of each day, my mama's life is one of chaos, despair, lost tempers, lost hopes. I am in the weeds up to my eyeballs, just like every one of y'all.
|well, there is some peace...|
I use to feel bad about this. I used to moan and complain that I do all this yoga & meditation, that I read all these mindfulness books and blogs, that I actually teach this stuff, and that I'm still a total mess. Surely all that practice should buy me a little peace? It does--it just doesn't buy me whole days of peace. It buys me little slivers, little pockets of peace. It doesn't prevent me from wanting to scream--but, sometimes, it gives me a little breath of time in which to pause, and refrain from screaming.
This is why I am so relieved when some of the teachers I admire reveal how they are messes, too. Like when one of my favorite yoga teachers, whose main teaching message is about self-love and being sweet to ourselves, scoffs "You think I love myself unconditionally? Pfffff!" Like when Maezen says that we don't practice because we want to, we practice because we have to. I have to practice this much, not to be the mama I desperately want to be, but to be the good enough mama I am today. I have to believe that that's okay.
|...and some coffee|
I also love those dreamy posts, the crafts and the coffee. Goodness knows I need the hope and the inspiration they offer! But I need to remember, reading them, just as I need to remember when the happiness (ahem) hits the fan over here: moments, whether beautiful or painful, are just that. Moments. Followed by another, and another. And any one of them need not define us: not me, not my mama idols.