"Here's the thing about trains, it doesn't matter where the train is going, it matters that you decide to get on." —The Polar Express
I have been thinking a lot about a word for 2013, a little exercise I've done at the beginning of every year since I've had this blog. Looking back I find it kind of funny that of all the words I've chosen, I am not any closer to achieving anything than when I started. I still forget to breathe all the time. I need to simplify more than ever. Considering all I'd like to accomplish this year, a little intention would be helpful. And, especially due to some darker days lately, I really need to be sunshine. Because I have basically accomplished nothing, I will just take that as a sign that I choose really good words. And that I am very aspirational.
For a few days I've been trying to find a word that encompasses all that I'd like to do this year. I'd like to write more and start knitting again. I'd like to clean more and save more and play games with my kids more. I'd like to complain less. But I've realized I can't just will myself to do these things.
Sitting on the couch with Elliott this morning watching The Polar Express for the thirtieth time in as many days, it occurred to me that despite his limitations, as far as I can tell, my five year old doesn't wish his life were different. He doesn't have a laundry list of things he'd like to do. He also doesn't simply accept where he is, he embraces the challenges and opportunities in his life with gusto.
I, on the other hand, am all about acceptance. I have accepted the fact that we have some major financial troubles that will take a while to set straight. I have accepted the fact that I have next to no free time anymore. I have accepted the fact that my house is disorganized and stuff needs to be purged. I have accepted the fact that my five year old wakes up at 4:30 a.m. almost every morning. I have accepted the fact that writing the book in my heart will now take a herculean effort. I have accepted the fact that my son may never thrive in a traditional school setting. I have accepted the fact that the 29-year-old girl who used to gaze at me in the mirror is no longer there. But here's the thing about accepting, it usually comes with a bad attitude. Just because I've accepted these truths about my life, doesn't mean I can't whine about them or be pissed about them or wish my days were different.
Acceptance and joy rarely go hand in hand.
Every morning I give Elliott an awful concoction of whole-food supplements our chiropractor has determined his skinny little body needs to thrive. They taste horrid but he doesn't understand how to swallow them whole. So I crush them up and try to mask the flavor in smoothies or yogurt. This morning as we watched Polar Express, he put a big spoonful of his vitamin-laden yogurt in his mouth and looked over at me.
"This good," he grinned, bouncing with a bizarre pre-dawn energy that doesn't seem to fill any other human I know. "Thank you, mommy."
What a crazy kid. His yogurt is terrible. I know, I've tasted it. But for some strange reason, Elliott does not reject it (and I know from the occasional times he does turn up his nose that he knows it's gross). The stranger thing is that he doesn't just accept it either, which is how his brother faces undesirable tasks and challenges—he'll do them, but grudgingly. Instead, Elliott embraces his lot in life. He finds the joy where the rest of us would find something to complain about.
And so I have decided to claim 2013 as the year to be more like Elliott. I claim 2013 as the year to embrace my life, the challenges and the opportunities. To stop whining and feeling sorry for myself. And, thanks to the example of my son and his favorite movie, no matter where the train is going, to decide to get on—with expectation, gratitude and joy.
Friday, January 4, 2013
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4 comments:
This delicious post was my lunchtime treat. Thank you. Amy, you are my HERO. That you found the time and energy to share those thoughts is herculean. Baby steps. Bird by Bird. Word by word. Looking forward to that book traveling from your heart to your fingers.
Amy, I'm glad you've made up your mind to not be so hard on yourself. Being a working mother in itself is herculean. I also have a special needs child, a career that needs tending, a book that needs writing and a household that needs organizing. Never a dull moment but, you're right, I really ought to try and enjoy the ride. Please keep writing. Love your posts!
Well said, Amy. LIke the old adage goes, "It's not what life hands you, but how you respond to it." All we can do is pay attention to every precious moment, as much as we can, because we weren't promised a certain number. No one, but no one, is free from strife.
Miss you!
Beautiful. Precious. Inspiring. My heart is full. Thank you!
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