This one is personal. You have been warn.
It's scorching in the UK, as you probably have seen on the news. Everyone has a million tips on how not to feel hot. We don't like to be uncomfortable, and we got so used to finding a solution for every little inconvenience that we can't conceive of not having solutions. And I found myself in the same boat these past few weeks. Trying to fix, find answers, anything that could get rid of the uncomfortable truth.
Yep, I am not talking about the heat.
I am talking about our daughter's mental health, our dog's health, and my relationship with my husband, which desperately needs attention. Each situation has one thing in common: I used to fix them, and if I couldn't, I became the walking stick to support them.
And so when shit hit the fan, I went to my toolbox, applied everything I knew, asked for help, and tried new things, all desperate for this turbulent situation to pass. Last week I thought I surrendered to reality and accepted it, but I did it so that it would change. So not really accepting it.
" To be free of something is not the same as getting rid of it. To be free means we are neither grasping or rejecting it. If you're pushing it away, it's still got you. " Jamie Catto
It's not easy to be free.
The penny dropped yesterday evening when we took our dog to the park in a dog stroller for the first time and cried, just like a parent who has to accept that his kid can't walk like it used to and not know if it will ever walk again. We decided not to cancel our holiday trip, travel across Europe in a car with a limping dog, and live life to the max.
The same happened with our daughter when I understood and accepted that she needed to find her truth by going through the dark night of the soul. I can't fix it, but I am willing to meet her where she is right now without me getting lost or overwhelmed. So I started taking care of myself more than before, even if it felt a bit crazy at the times to think about myself. Saw good friends that cooked and took care of us.
I escaped to the sea and absorbed all the vitamin D. Read my novel. Nothing fancy but deeply nourishing.
My love is a bit lost without me being the walking stick, so our relationship is limping just like everyone else in this family, and that's ok.
That doesn't mean I just gave up or lost hope. I am still trying to understand why is this happening and get the context right, not just the stories that my mind comes up with.
I just accepted that at this moment, this is where we are, melting, limping and all that shebang. Because eventually, no matter how many fans and cold showers we have at one point, we need to accept the heat, the sweat and trust that it's ok to feel uncomfortable, and eventually, it will pass.
From my steaming hot living room, Nora