Thursday, April 12, 2007
TAKE YOUR FOOT OFF THE GAS
I haven't got a clear topic in mind to write about today, so I went fishing for a photo that might inspire me. I found this gorgeous landscape by Craig Shillington, which seems to relate to my internal weather system at the moment. I love the double-image of the tree - it makes me think of how there is always as much below the surface as above it. The contrast in the photo also highlights the shape of the tree and how amazing it is that so much bushy, bulging life can emerge from such a slender trunk.
I am recuperating today from an emotional storm of my own making. I do that. I do it a lot actually, I get all worked up about something and then the energy of my anger or sadness or anxiety keeps churning and burning, feeding off itself long after the original impulse has faded. And I have a tendency to drag others down into these wet seething emotional whirpools with me - especially Lord Limescale (my husband has offered this as his new blog nickname - you'll probably only find this funny if you've lived in England and had to worry about descaling your appliances, sink, tub and teeth), and Megawoman (my sweet mama who gave me life and probably also my tendency toward emotional excess.)
As I walked my son to school this morning, I pictured myself as a car idling in a garage. How many times have I revved the engine without releasing the brake? How wasteful it is to spend all that energy without having a real journey to show for it. I think I'm hardwired for overheating - my whole family is. Maybe it's our Scotch-Irish roots - we come from passionate people, people with black tempers, people who can work in the fields for 16 hours a day and down a pint of whiskey without batting an eye. Or maybe my talent for obsessive introspection is the darker side of my creative coin. But God, I wish I could stop doing it. Ultimately, this static engine revving is just plain destructive - it doesn't lead to any real insight or transformation - it just uses up energy and wears out the tires.
And so, today, urged by the need to lift myself out of the cozy rags of my old habits, I wrote Mantra #4:
I got the idea of creating my own mantras from a sweet little book I've been reading this winter called Mommy Mantras. I originally found it abandoned at Gymboree (cosmically telling, don't you think?), and I glanced through it while Gabriel was chasing girls around the room and using the equipment for purposes other than the intended ones. I thought the short pithy chapters were well-written, but I told myself that I didn't need another witty pseudo-psychology book about mothering - I literally have shelves full of them. But then months later, when I was in final preparation mode for the move to England, I went to my favorite used bookstore in San Francisco to cash in a credit and found a copy staring at me from the parenting shelf. So I snagged it, and the book has been a faithful companion to me during the darkest parts of these early days in London when my violent reactions to Gman's misbehavin' made me feel like Mommy Dearest.
You may wonder about Mantras #1-3. They exist, but I haven't had to call them into service this week. Well, that's not entirely true - Mantra #3: Create a Clearing has been pretty well-fingered over the past few days, but more on all that later.
Be well.
I haven't got a clear topic in mind to write about today, so I went fishing for a photo that might inspire me. I found this gorgeous landscape by Craig Shillington, which seems to relate to my internal weather system at the moment. I love the double-image of the tree - it makes me think of how there is always as much below the surface as above it. The contrast in the photo also highlights the shape of the tree and how amazing it is that so much bushy, bulging life can emerge from such a slender trunk.
I am recuperating today from an emotional storm of my own making. I do that. I do it a lot actually, I get all worked up about something and then the energy of my anger or sadness or anxiety keeps churning and burning, feeding off itself long after the original impulse has faded. And I have a tendency to drag others down into these wet seething emotional whirpools with me - especially Lord Limescale (my husband has offered this as his new blog nickname - you'll probably only find this funny if you've lived in England and had to worry about descaling your appliances, sink, tub and teeth), and Megawoman (my sweet mama who gave me life and probably also my tendency toward emotional excess.)
As I walked my son to school this morning, I pictured myself as a car idling in a garage. How many times have I revved the engine without releasing the brake? How wasteful it is to spend all that energy without having a real journey to show for it. I think I'm hardwired for overheating - my whole family is. Maybe it's our Scotch-Irish roots - we come from passionate people, people with black tempers, people who can work in the fields for 16 hours a day and down a pint of whiskey without batting an eye. Or maybe my talent for obsessive introspection is the darker side of my creative coin. But God, I wish I could stop doing it. Ultimately, this static engine revving is just plain destructive - it doesn't lead to any real insight or transformation - it just uses up energy and wears out the tires.
And so, today, urged by the need to lift myself out of the cozy rags of my old habits, I wrote Mantra #4:
Take Your Foot Off the GasWhen life gets intense and I start to feel overwhelmed and out-of-control, I will speak this mantra to remind myself to ease back on the gas. To take a breath, loosen my grip, and let the engine die down to a low, slow idle. I will speak this mantra to remind myself to just sit for a spell without trying to get anywhere.
I got the idea of creating my own mantras from a sweet little book I've been reading this winter called Mommy Mantras. I originally found it abandoned at Gymboree (cosmically telling, don't you think?), and I glanced through it while Gabriel was chasing girls around the room and using the equipment for purposes other than the intended ones. I thought the short pithy chapters were well-written, but I told myself that I didn't need another witty pseudo-psychology book about mothering - I literally have shelves full of them. But then months later, when I was in final preparation mode for the move to England, I went to my favorite used bookstore in San Francisco to cash in a credit and found a copy staring at me from the parenting shelf. So I snagged it, and the book has been a faithful companion to me during the darkest parts of these early days in London when my violent reactions to Gman's misbehavin' made me feel like Mommy Dearest.
You may wonder about Mantras #1-3. They exist, but I haven't had to call them into service this week. Well, that's not entirely true - Mantra #3: Create a Clearing has been pretty well-fingered over the past few days, but more on all that later.
Be well.
