Sigh...it is very early here in New Jersey. I awoke with mom guilt. Again. I am working and am full of guilt that I am not home. When I'm home though, I feel guilt that I still don't do enough for my kids. And when I try and do more, then I have work guilt--fear I am not doing enough at work and may end up hanging out at the unemployment office in the not-so-distant future. It never ends. I feel like a hamster in a run-about guilt ball. You know those little balls you can put a hamster in so he can run but he can't hide? It colors EVERYTHING. I see through a filter of guilt. I think most women I know, heck, most people I know, function very similarly. It is an insanity cycle.
Clearly, pursuit of perfection is a clear path to Prozac.
So how do we balance this? I don't want to give myself permission to be a 'hot mess' because striving for perfection is a tad bit like setting oneself up for failure. Working to improve, to grow, to be our best is a good thing, right? So I started to think about what I do to evaluate my performance. Well, I feel much better about myself when I am teaching in poverty stricken areas of the country and hear stories from teachers that moms are too hung-over to get up and get their kids breakfast or get them to school, and seldom help with homework or sign school papers because they are off with the flavor of the week at the local bar. Hearing those stories simultaneously makes me sick-to-my-stomach and warm and fuzzy all over because I now look like a rock star mom. That is pathetic. Not to excuse the behavior that hurts these sweet kids, but these moms are struggling in a horrible existence, stemming from broken souls and learned behavior that is so difficult to break. A desire to help heal, to help educate and support is good. However, to use these stories to make myself feel better is not so good.
Then there is the opposite. Watching moms who look like Barbie-dolls, have homes you could eat off of the floor at any given time, and manage to send homemade lunches with carefully crafted notes, complete with all sorts of fancy things from Hobby Lobby (e.g., die cuts, etc.), make me want to poke my eyes out...slowly.
It is simple. Looking outside of myself is futile. And looking outside of myself through the plastic haze of my run-about guilt ball colors everything. I will never be enough. Ever.
I am still not entirely sure how to do this...to balance a desire to be my best and give myself grace to be imperfect. Maybe that is sort-of it. Maybe if I take one step at a time and quit running in the guilt ball...maybe.
Maybe it is about looking inward. Setting small goals to improve, but offering ourselves love and grace when we fall short. My mom wrote something that lifts my soul in reference to this:
"Winning at the race called life,
Comes if you heed this call:
Surely it's no more than this,
Arise each time you fall." (MBT)
It is about finding peace within that where we are on our journey is exactly where we should be. That there is often perfection in the imperfection, and life is best when it is messy. Life is about mistakes and learning and growth. It is about getting our hands dirty, not folding our perfectly manicured hands in our laps. We have to let go of the need to appear perfect. If we would allow ourselves to be messy, it would be a gift to those around us. When we give ourselves grace, we make it safe for others to do the same.
I refuse to live my life in this run-about guilt ball anymore. I am stepping out. At least I am going to try. I will look inward for affirmation, not outward. And when I go inward, I would like to find grace and love instead of guilt and shame. There, in that place of peace, I am enough.
