It's Not Always Easy to Obey the Chocolate

Love yourself.

Love,
Dove®

Thanks, foil wrapper from that delectably smooth morsel of dark chocolate. I needed to hear that. Too bad I didn't read you until after I'd swallowed your contents!

I spoke with my counselor last week about all the wonderful insights I'd gained from The Road Less Traveled and Ms. Brené Brown, and she encouraged me to slow down and center my attention/thoughts/reflections around one topic. Since discipline and vulnerability were two of the qualities that seemed to resonate the most for me, we talked about them a bit and decided to focus for now on vulnerability.

One of the main reasons the TED talk referenced in my last post resonated so strongly for me is because I, like Brené, am something of a perfectionist - and while I don't find vulnerability quite as distasteful as she does (or did), I feel I lack the deep-seated sense of worthiness she attributes to the "whole-hearted" people in her study. My feelings of guilt and inadequacy - not being everything I feel I should be to everyone, including myself - make it incredibly difficult for me to love and accept myself as I am. She describes the "whole-hearted" people as "willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they were . . . They believed that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful." This is where I struggle.

I don't feel beautiful at my current weight (I'm 120 lbs over my ideal weight). I don't find my tendency to procrastinate admirable. I don't think my failure to keep up with the housework is worthy of praise. I feel bad about the fact that my daughter has often been late to school, and that I haven't been as on top of things like homework assignments and as involved with her school activities as I could have been. Then there's the guilt about not attending Sabbath School/church every week (just to clarify, the guilt is about not being there for my husband, not because I think God judges me), not making enough of an effort to connect emotionally with my husband, not making enough time for quality play with our daughter (an only child) or arranging enough play dates for her to be with kids her own age, not exercising enough (or at all), not cooking dinner often enough, not singing enough, not finishing my bachelor's degree and consequently not earning enough, and the list goes on.

I honestly don't know whether my expectations of myself are completely unrealistic, or if I'm just an incredibly undisciplined person. If it's the former, I don't have a clue which expectations I need to let go of. If it's the latter, I'm even more ashamed of myself. Perhaps it's a little from column A and a little from column B. I honestly don't know why I consistently fail to be the person I want to be - I only know I feel strongly that I'm not measuring up. I'm not happy with me the way I am, and I want to change. But change requires energy and effort, and I rarely feel I have a handle on either quality, let alone both at once.

There are a few things I feel I'm doing right. I try to spend at least a few minutes every day connecting with my husband and daughter, letting them know that I care by listening, responding as best I can to their needs, and demonstrating affection - and although I still feel I don't do nearly enough of this, I'm at least making an effort. I do my best to stay in touch regularly with family and friends, to be there for them as much as possible, and to let them know how much they mean to me. I make an effort to demonstrate respect and caring for my coworkers, the students my office serves, and everyone I come in contact with - from shuttle drivers and grocery store clerks to new Sabbath School attendees at our church and the homeless people I occasionally encounter in our community. I do what I can to stand up to bullies and root for the underdogs. I am open and honest with others about who I am (even the parts I don't like) and what I believe. I feel I am vulnerable in that I'm willing to love and risk being hurt, I'm open to change, even if it's uncomfortable (which it inevitably is), and I readily acknowledge my imperfection to myself and to others. I embrace vulnerability as a way of life, but I can't seem to extend that to embracing my own inadequacy. It feels that if I accept/love who I am now, it somehow condones my lack of discipline/effort. But I don't know if I can obtain the will to change my behavior without that love/acceptance.

Which comes first? Love or discipline? For now, I'm inclined to think that Dove® is on the right track - but I think I'll chew on this message for a while before unwrapping another one.

The Most Important Part of the Work

"The beginning is the most important part of the work."
- Plato

It's also the hardest part of the work - at least for me. Forming new habits requires consistency, discipline and energy - qualities that are sadly lacking in my lifestyle at present. I have spent time in the last couple of weeks re-reading M. Scott Peck's marvelous book "The Road Less Traveled," and have found it very meaningful. I also watched this excellent TED talk by Brené Brown about vulnerability, which really resonated with me. I have spent quite a bit of time thinking about writing, but making the time to sit down and do it has not happened with everything else that seems to be clamoring for my attention - countless tasks at work that have had me working overtime every night, my sweet daughter with a million questions and ideas that need to be heard and responded to, the kitchen sink and countertops overflowing with dirty dishes, the knee-deep piles of laundry, the dirty floors, bathrooms, the unpaid bills, the things I've been meaning to look into but haven't yet (piano lessons, dance lessons, summer child care options), etc., etc., etc. I am constantly feeling overwhelmed with everything there is to do, and the needs I feel I should be meeting - for my family, my friends, my employer, my church, and my community. After getting my girl into bed, asking my hubby about his day, and making at least a half-hearted attempt to address the dishes and/or laundry, I tend to numb my feelings of helplessness about it all by retreating into a book, a television show, or the internet. Summoning the energy to think and write after a long day of work seems an impossible, futile task. A dear friend has been hinting that another post is long overdue, and I've spent the past two weeks feeling guilty about it, knowing I should be giving this more of my attention - but just getting through each day has seemed like such an enormous task that I haven't had any energy leftover to devote to this blog, and have not even spent the time each day on something for me that I intended. I know I need to make this process a priority if I'm going to be successful, but I don't know how to acquire the energy and will to focus on it. Any ideas, dear readers? I'm floundering here!