An Inquiry for Hard Times

Lilly came down with a fever on Thursday before the winter break, and she stayed home from preschool the next day, Friday - the last day before the school closed for the holidays.

She’s had no less than 6 (honestly, I’ve lost count) colds and flus since the beginning of September. Nick and I have had a lot of them, too. Up until early December, she hadn’t even made it through an entire week of school without illness.  And if I look even further back, it’s been since March that we’ve been dealing with a multitude of viruses and bacteria of all kinds.

If you have too, I want you to know I feel you.  If your life has been a shit show lately, rest here.  You’re my people.

Throughout these months friends and family have shared with me numerous times that this is the “year of immunity-building” for Lilly.  For the uninitiated, this is the year when her immune system gains strength by encountering all the stuff that challenges it and makes it more robust.  Like other kids.  And public spaces.  And dirt.

This fact is mildly reassuring to the part of me that worries about how frequently she’s been ill.  And the part of me that wants to do stuff could give a shit.

Because I’ve had PLANS.  I have clients to serve, projects to move forward, stuff I’m super-excited to create and invite you to be a part of.  And so I get clingy.  Attached.  Because this part of me wants things to go my way, right now.

And this is when I get pissy.  Impatient.  Entitled.  Isn’t it enough that I’m the primary caregiver and do many of the things most of the time?  Is it too much to ask that I have a couple of hours to myself to devote to the other things that light me up?  Can I please - like, once a day? - just go to the bathroom without a 4-year-old clinging to my leg?

I was sitting with all of this last week while cuddling on the couch with Lilly and rubbing her head, having just rescheduled yet another day full of sessions and appointments.  Sitting with my disappointment, my frustration, my doubt and resentment.  Sitting with the belief that all of her (my/our) sickness has been getting in the way of everything I’m dreaming of making and doing and being.

In the thick of all the feelings and thoughts, here’s the question* that arose:

If I knew that what’s happening in my life right now was actually making everything better, what would change for me?  How would I be?

That’s worth repeating:  If I really knew in my heart that this season of life with all its apparent roadblocks and interruptions was actually improving everything I’m dreaming about, how might I view this time differently?

(By the way, I’m not saying I do know this.  I’m not even saying it’s true.  I’m just saying, what if…?)

Here are some top-of-mind answers:

• I would relax.  I’d be quicker to accept the curve balls and adjust accordingly.

• I would loosen my attachment to doing and accomplishment.  I’d be divesting myself of Hustle Culture, and the idea that my value is in what I do instead of inherent.

• I’d be making more room to be in flow with the intelligence of Life and its timeline.  There’d be more capacity for me to ask for and receive help when things feel hard.

• I’d be following my intuition with tenacity - and I might actually get some stuff done with more ease and grace.

I’m continuing to journal with, walk with, live with, this question as I’m figuring this stuff out.  And I’m offering it up for you to be with, too, if you choose.

If you knew that the things that look like obstacles were actually making everything on the horizon more fulfilling, what might you do differently?  How would you be?

What might change for you in this new year and beyond?

(Leave a comment and let me know.)

*The structure for this kind of questioning and inquiry comes from Nancy Kline and her book Time to Think.