A couple of weeks ago I fell on the ice and hurt my knee. It has been a painful, ever present reminder that I am not the master of my own universe, and that randomly, out of nowhere, there can be a whole new plan forced upon me. I can do my best to stay on the narrow path, but sometimes icy spots trip you up.
I think these moments are valuable. They force you to contemplate your well ordered existence, and jar you from your easy complacency. My injured knee has caused me to evaluate my own life, and think about what is most important to me, an exercise which I think is important to do occasionally.
I had a conversation with my daughter recently which was very interesting for me. I made a lot of sacrifices when she and her brother were growing up, and like every parent, you never know at the time if you did the right things. But she affirmed for me that many of things I did were important to her, and that while she did not understand the sacrifice at the time, she does now, and it mattered. And isn't that what we most want, as parents, and spouses, and friends? To matter to the people who matter to us?
The conversation revolved around the guilt most women feel as they try to decide what to do - work or be home. I did both, so I have a dual perspective. With the first child, I worked until he went to school, then I was at home (volunteered like crazy, so I was still very busy, but at home.) With the second child, (the one I was talking to,) I was at home until she was in middle school, then I worked.
What made me take special notice, though, was how she viewed my presence. She recognized my need to work, and she understood that sometimes I had to work when she would have liked me to be present. But she knew, deep down and without question, that she was my priority, no matter whether I was there in person or not. She remembered all the times when I was there for her when she needed me, instead of the times I said I didn't have time right now.
In other words, she doesn't remember what I missed. She remembers the many more times I made it happen so I could be there for what was most important to her. By and large, she affirmed that I made good choices, and that made me feel like a success as a parent. WIN!
Hurting my knee has given me some sofa time to consider the choices I have made more recently, and how I feel about them. I know I am where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing in this season of life, and I feel good about that, even though it involved making some hard sacrifices. I am part of the sandwich generation, caught between adult children who live elsewhere and who need me, and an aging parent who lives here who generally needs me more. I want to be present for all of it, but life forces choices, and I have made peace with the choices I have made, and I have done the best I could. But I want to improve on that record where I can, because you can always do better.
I was recently called old, and there is a certain sting to the word, even as I realize the young person saying it was throwing barbs off the cuff, and probably mostly in jest. I am sure 58 does look old when you are in your 20's and life stretches ahead endlessly, although she was somewhat artless in pointing that out so publicly. But she was also right.
I am aging, and it is becoming increasingly important that I mind the small stuff that didn't used to matter. My body is not as young as it once was, and it is harder to manage on a daily basis than it used to be. I gain weight more easily and lose it more slowly. My joints ache more often, and it's harder to recover when they get injured. My reflexes are a little bit slower, I get tired out more easily, my eyes are slower to adjust and sometimes seem independent of each other, my brain is not quite as quick as it used to be. (That could not be a more depressing realization, because I have always been quick, and I don't relish losing that aspect of my character.)
So, first and foremost, thinking about what I want for the future encourages me and spurs me on to take better care of myself, because I want to continue to be there for my family in an active, vital way. I want to be present, like my mom, until I am old enough that my grandchildren know me, as a person, and will always remember me. (I never knew my grandparents, and it is a hole in my life that I have felt keenly since I was young and envious of all my friends who had grandparents.) In response, I have made significant changes to my diet, I am trying to work in mental breaks where I wasn't before, and I am trying to get back to a more creative inner life. Already I have noticed a positive difference, which is encouraging and makes me feel good about the revisions, even if it has been challenging.
I have seen the world change over the last 20 years, and it worries me. We don't care for others the way we used to, and I lay a lot of the blame for the incivility on social media. We fire off comments without thinking, groveling for likes and followers as if following the Holy Grail. Monty Python couldn't have dreamed up a sillier situation than people falling out publicly over politics on Facebook or Twitter. The level of vitriol and bullying is astounding to me, and it is depressing and somewhat frightening. Yes, words can hurt, very deeply. The ever rising suicide rate is proof of that. We have lost touch with real people because we are so busy living a virtual life. It has not been an improvement for a lot of people, this permeation of our every hour by cyberspace. (My husband has said that for years. He is not on Facebook, and can't see the use of it at all. I am beginning to think he was ahead of the curve, and I am now catching up!)
So I got rid of my personal Facebook for the sake of my mental well being. Not entirely, of course. To be technically accurate, you can never get rid of Facebook, even if you delete your profile, because it will always be out there, stored on a server somewhere, ready to be pulled back at the click of a mouse. But I did deactivate my profile, which is, at least, a start. (In the interests of truthfulness, I did create a new shell profile so I can run my business page, but I am not active on it. It is purely a business move, because in today's world, you have no choice.) I choose to seek uplift, and I feel that social media diminishes me.
An interesting side note, however, is that even though I miss the updates and thoughts of a few people I don't get to see in real life very often, someone quite close to me did not even notice I was gone. That put me properly in my place, and was a really valuable lesson for me about my relative importance, and particularly the importance of my every random thought, to the world at large.
In truth, no one really cares about my presence on social media, even if they care deeply about me in the real world. I am just not that important, in the global sense. Very few people are. In addition, people are icebergs, much more than a facebook profile. Trying to reduce someone to something so simplistic is like viewing a car and saying the door is the only part that counts, because it is most visible from your angle. Social media is a skewed snapshot of the inner person, and often blurry, at that. I would rather people take the time to know the whole me, because the invisible parts are likely the most interesting, rather than the distorted snippet seen on social media.
Without the constant obsession of Facebook to distract me, I have started going through stacks of old papers that have piled up for the last few years. It seems my life has been so busy and chaotic, I have tossed papers in a pile instead of looking at them and either filing or discarding. My house is as cluttered as my mind has been, and neither one is good for peace in the soul. It is interesting to look through all the old papers that I preserved, thinking I might need them later. Why did I imagine a bill from the electric company at my old residence was worth keeping, I wonder? Papers from past jobs, information about trips never taken or photos of people whose names I cannot recall, all are in the stacks I am going through. I am excited to clear away the cobwebs of my past life and move forward without the baggage weighing me down. It is cleansing in more ways than just clearing space on the shelf.
I have set some goals, also, for what I want to accomplish during this cold season of winter. Getting rid of clothing and belongings which no longer serve my needs is high on the list. So is writing more and reading more, even if only for me. Enriching my mind, or providing some relief from the cares of life, are both valuable efforts.
A fall on the ice is never fun, and it left me sore and a little unnerved. But it triggered a lot of thought for me on the direction that my life needs to go, and I think prompted some important changes that will improve my life in the years to come. From better eating habits to better time management, I have done some hard personal work to promote a healthier body and mind, and that can only be a good thing.
It is unnerving to make changes in a well ordered routine, even if its not serving you well. But the payoff can be greater happiness and peace, which is well worth the effort. I will backslide no doubt, I always do, but it doesn't make the effort less valuable, because the small steps can effect large results, if you keep trying. Perseverance wins the race, and I still have a long way to go, I hope.
Wishing you a January of hope and peace. And maybe a little walk on the wild side of self-evaluation and change!
