melody beattie

I wrote this in November 2020:

Here’s the truth: I’m not feeling hopeful today. There is way too much on my emotional plate. And, right now, I’m wondering how the presidential election here is gonna go. Now, please don’t try to assuage my fears. I think I’ll eventually be back to my inspired and inspiring self. I know that there’s a higher plan. I know, as my mother always says, this too shall pass. But I don’t just don’t feel it right now.

Oh, I don’t wanna live through this period of time right now , and what I fear it will bring! And it probably doesn’t matter which candidate wins. The ugly truth genie is out of the bottle: we are broken, here in the US. Angry. Violent. Or silent. Deeply divided on what I always thought were no-brainer values for Americans, Decency being one. And I don’t know if we’ll ever recover. That’s the hard part. So, I’m grieving.

Am I breathing, meditating? Speaking peace and perspective to those around me and on social media? Surrendering control of the outcome? Yes, most of the time. My stomach is in knots, though, and I have an appetite only for sweets, which, for a diabetic, is not good. I’ve worn the same clothes for three days.

I wrote this today, 1/27/21:

There are still holiday decoration that need to go into the attic and projects here at home staring me in the face, and I can’t make myself do anything about them. This is partly because I’m taking care of my mom, and partly because, although the candidate of my choice won the presidency, our Capitol was shockingly and violently invaded. And I see more difficulties ahead. So, this is a time to grieve, I guess. To let myself feel it, and, somehow, become ready to release it. Today might not be that day. Wherever we are, we are. We can tend to it, or not. I do my best. Connecting with my people helps.

I’m choosing, as I write this, to deal with it, instead of overeating sweets and being a slacker. So far, that strategy’s working pretty well, freeing me to let it go. Then I can get back to doing my things that need doing.

Thanks for reading my little life story. Hope you’re doing ok.

BOOK: The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie

I was SO attached to the summer. And now, it’s over.

I use the change of seasons to learn again to adjust to things I can’t control. My latest railings are against, among other things, aging, cancer, fall allergies, and government gone amok.

And rude people.

So many people seem to have big control issues. (Never me–ha!) Why do some folks have to drive like maniacs so they can cut in front of me ONE SPACE? What’s going on with those who are constantly IN MY BUSINESS, telling me what I ought to do as if I’m four years old? Those people. And, what about the ones who decide who and who cannot come worship the God of love in the same space as they do?

Rude.

But, then I remember. I am like them sometimes, and so are you. Perfectly imperfect humans. Unless you’re the Dalai Lama. Or Jesus.

Dang!

With lots of help from many sources, and because I was in so much emotional pain way back when, I learned mostly the hard way about the fragile balance of controlling: what’s mine -vs- what’s yours to take care of. As a codependent type, I still sometimes struggle (despite all the growth I’ve experienced) with trying not to steer someone else’s ship, or, conversely, letting them steer mine. Then there’s the way I can avoid people (instead of having a conversation) when they’ve overstepped my boundaries. It’s complicated. But I have come really far and generally am free of the huge, hairy, codependent thingy tugging at my heart.

As always, the keys are to keep at it and find (and frequently use) tools–books, meditation, videos, humans who listen, stickies on the mirror, connecting with my inner Artist–anything that helps, because working on your issues should, IMHO, never be done without the perspective of connecting with someone or something outside your messed-up self. I have a growing list of proven (i.e., in my experience) tools here.

There have been healing tools I’ve tried which haven’t worked for me, so my sterling advice is:

Use what works for you

Again, I say: use what works for you. It sounds trite, but I spent too much stress-producing time trying something that I sensed was not for me–another codependent behavior. So, yeah, use what works for you.

Be good to yourself! I’d love to hear about your own journey. Just comment below.

Here are links to a couple of books on my shelf and/or iPad® that have helped save me from myself and from Mother Nature: