Permission to Party! (Let Go of the Napkins)
Let’s party - safely, together, energetically, electronically, or contentedly solo, enjoying whatever there is to be enjoyed for the day. It’s not going to be perfect. It never is and it never has been and it always is and it always has been, depending on how I look at it.
Some stuff legitimately stinks. Worse than that. And if I can do something about it I do, and if I can’t then stewing isn’t going to help anything anyway. Honestly, I’d like to have a great day today.
And I can, I want to, I’ve learned to let it all go. Today. Right now. For myself, for my family, for my community.
Today my plan is to appreciate what there is to appreciate, which is quite a bit, if I get right down to it. I’m gonna practice, really practice, noticing when I’m out of appreciation and into improving, strategizing, maximizing, or bemoaning.
When I’m into self-flagellation or self-pity I’m going to remember my current phrase of choice, “What would it feel like if everything and everyone were okay as they are?” Even myself, even that thing. And cultivate that feeling of okayness. Take a deep breath, remember I’m not in charge, I get to enjoy this day, but only, only, if I accept it as it is and stop wishing for something else.
Even though it’s just us this year I know I’m going to get stressed about how much food we have (too much and too little), and how messy the house is (so messy). I know my pod people are going to be doing what they also do around the holidays, that we all sometimes fall victim to our own unfulfillable desires about how things should be and how each of us should be and how we, ourselves should be, that is different from how things are and how we are.
Today, I’m giving myself permission — orders — to let go of whatever, whoever, is blocking my view of the sun. Usually I t’s me clouding things up.
Or rather, it seems like it’s me. That old familiar me who shows up and feels comfortably morose, stressed and/or grouchy, and/or overwhelmed during the holidays. Satisfied with only glimmers and moments of “Isn’t this nice?”
That me is the one who somewhere got convinced that I should and do care deeply about how flakey the crust is or how unstained the cloth napkins.
And if the crust is flakey and the napkins aren’t stained, then I should feel guilt and shame for all the people who aren’t as fortunate as I am. The people who are hungry, sick, lonely, who I’m not doing anything to help right this second, or so many seconds of so many days.
That me, the omni-critical one, yes Evie, the inner critic, lives in a mental minefield of rocks and hard places and not really anywhere in between. She is never grateful, always wanting more and different from myself and everyone around me.
What a drag! And then these people told me life wasn’t given me to feel that crappy. They told me I didn’t have to feel that way. And I did not believe them. But I did what they told me to do anyway, one day at a time, and now, some time later, I’ve realized that I can actually live based on what I - the real me, the happy, grateful, sometimes sad, mad, scared, lonely, but somehow still here, with perhaps time on the clock, me, the human me, actually needs:
To love and be loved, to take care of myself and others. I can listen to that different voice, a truer voice, and feel better, live better, not settle for glimmers of “Isn’t this nice?” in between sprints for improvement and stress over suboptimal vegan pie and wrinkled napkins. I can do more for others and spend less time worrying about it. I’ve learned to live, sustainably, much of the time, in appreciation. Notice when I’m not there, and consciously return. It’s an awesome home base. I’m grateful for that.
I’m gonna keep going.
www.livingeveryminuteofit.com
www.combatcovidstress.com
