.SOMETIMES RAW.

“I’ve learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what’s unsaid, what’s underneath. Understanding on another level of being.” – Anna Kamienska

It is what it is. This statement could simply define our collective malaise. Lately, I have been catching this phrase uttered repeatedly. Another bullshit at work: it is what it is. A breakup: it is what it is. A missed deadline: it is what it is. Wars all over the world: it is what it is. Lost keys: it is what it is. The TSA demonstrations and super long lines at the airport: it is what it is. New prices on gas and electricity: it is what it f***ing is. The GIZ fee even though I pay for internet and have no TV or radio: it is what it is!

Sometimes there is an optimism to these words. It is what it is, and I can find a way to tolerate the circumstances and work with what it is. Then there is a shrug of resignation, it is what it is and there is nothing I can do about it, nothing to work with. Both lenses hold a truth, but where the former offers acceptance, the latter brings an abandonment of hope. 

Perhaps, I abandon hope as a way to protect myself. When things are difficult, uncertain, and weird, my responses get hard, rigid, and defensive. So, if it is what it is, how do I “dance” with what is? 

I begin to find something to value in the circumstance, in this mess, I can sometimes find something miraculous. If I cannot find something to value, maybe I am stuck in some weird mindset. Maybe I am trying to change things, trying to dissect things, trying to win at things. But in the trying, I often muddy the water that is best cleared by leaving things alone. 

To me, it becomes a dance between taking responsibility for what I can control and find value within it, and leaving alone what I cannot. That is perhaps the difficulty. I keep splashing about because I don’t want to lose something, be it an expectation, be it an opportunity, be it hope. But finding a way to be okay with whatever it is becomes about accepting loss. 

Are you still with me? I hope you are. 

One of my favourite poems is One Art by Elizabeth Bishop, a prompt to ‘lose something every day.’ This is a practice because I don’t want to lose things. I want to hold on tight. I don’t want to accept it is what it is, because then I lose what it is not. But as Bishop opens the poem, ‘The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.’

Sometimes how it goes feels like a deluge of loss. Lost keys, lost love, lost experiences. But perhaps that deluge is leading us to something and helping to soften us into the dance. As Anne Lamott wrote, “When a lot of things start going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born—and that this something needs for you to be distracted so that it can be born as perfectly as possible.”

Sometimes, this distraction allows me to step back and see what THIS really is. To uncover what I might have been long ignoring, to extract the reality from a fantasy, to hold the good bits and the not so good bits. Sometimes, this distraction is teaching me to hold things lightly. To learn a bit, to laugh a bit, to let it go. Sometimes, this distraction is showing me what I really need. 

Sometimes, this distraction is teaching me to brace uncertainty with love, rather than resistance. Then I tell myself that it all may look like a wreck, but I go at it like it is a new opportunity, a new challenge. And I bring love to it all. Any disaster I can survive is an improvement in my character, my stature, and my life. 

“Every storm runs out of rain” – Maya Angelou 

I don’t know when I will meet another storm. That is the basic truth of life. It is unfair and it doesn’t make sense. But if I can bring love to the moment, maybe in time I won’t mind so much, or at least find myself caring about certain issues less. I just don’t mind that much anymore what happens and this way what is can be what it is. From my side, there is no resistance (doesn’t get me anywhere anyway), aversion, gasping or chasing around in a spinning wheel. This does not mean I become passive. It simply is what it is, this is what I need, I don’t mind what happens are all forms of acceptance that allows me to greet my wants, goals and desires and work toward them, without worrying about how something will turn out. 

So, to sum this all up. You worry and resist, you grasp, but it will be what it will be whether you worry, resist or grasp. You can sometimes lower your expectations to ensure you aren’t hurt by whatever it will be, but you can still encounter hurt. It is what it is. Whether I lose something, whether someone is disappointed in us, whether something turns out differently from how I expected. All I can do is keep going with what is, finding the love in it, accepting and soften. So my sharp edges don’t wind up being death by a thousand cuts but I can mould to what is, instead. After all, it is what it is, and it is also this. The surprise phone call from a friend, this memory, this person who loves you, your kid(s) who love(s) you, this smile, this idea. Just look around at everything beautiful in your day. Take it all with you – what it is, what it is not, what you have lost, what you have gained, what you are waiting for, what has arrived. And then just dance with it all.

via The New Yorker

Some time ago, we watched the movie Eighth Grade about an eighth-grade girl struggling through those rough middle school years. (Have you seen it?) She lives with her dad, and one evening around the backyard fire pit, asks him the heartbreaking question, “Do I make you sad?” He talks to her about why she asked the question, and then answers: “Being your dad makes me so happy,” he says. “It’s so easy to love you. It’s so easy to be proud of you.”

“It’s so easy to love you.” I’ve remembered that line since I first saw the movie seven years ago. How beautiful are those words? How cherished would you feel if someone said that to you?

It made me think about things I’ve said to my own child — sentiments I’ve meant, very deeply — and what phrases I’ve heard from my own parents, and what I’ve heard other parents tell their kids. Of course, people show love in many different ways — giving your full attention, paying for dinner, making a bowl of cut fruit — and some people feel twitchy when it comes to direct praise and sweet nothings, and that’s fine! But if, like me, your love language is words of affirmation, here are a few things you might say to your child, if they feel right to you…

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I will always be here for you.

Even when I’m mad, grouchy, or tired, or you’re mad, grouchy, or tired, I always love you.

When you’re with me, when we’re apart, when we’re awake, when we’re asleep, I always, always, always love you.

There is nothing you could ever do or say that would make me not love you.

I love to hear what you think.

I love you with my whole heart.

I love every age you’ve been, and it’s a gift and joy to watch you grow up. I love to watch you play.

You have good instincts.

Trust your instincts.

You can trust yourself.

I’m so happy to be your mom.

I love being your mom.

You bring me joy every day.

You can do hard things. I’ve seen you do them before, and you can do them again.

You can run through the storm.

It’s so brave to feel your feelings; some people live their whole lives without being able to do that.

Whatever you feel is normal; you’re never, ever the only one.

Anything you can even think of, someone has felt and done before.

You can tell me anything.

Nothing you say will surprise or shock me; I’ve heard it all before.

I’ll never be grossed out or embarrassed by anything you tell me; it’s all normal.

I’m always here if you need me.

You’re a beautiful person.

You are always on my mind.

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Thoughts? How do you show love to your children? What’s your love language? I’d love to hear. xoxo

Me, posing and staring at my son who is doing something he is not supposed to.

So you want to have a baby. Spring is around the corner and people are getting ready to reproduce. I heard too much baby-talk lately so I think it is necessary to enlighten some of you out there. Let’s get pregnant, honey. That’s the biggest decision you’ve ever made in your life. And with it comes an endless list of to-dos, supply needs, and pointers to make sure you don’t screw up this kid’s childhood. But before you get to any of that, have you double-checked that you have all the necessary prerequisites to be eligible for the role of “parent”?

Surely, if you’re ready to take on that responsibility, all of the below should be no problem:

 Keep a minimum of two plants alive for at least three months

 Plug in your phone before going to bed so it’s not dead when you wake up five nights in a row

 Mark all 6,709 unread emails on your phone as “read”

 Learn the difference once and for all between shallots, scallops, and scallions

 Cancel the subscription to the gym membership you accidentally enrolled in five years ago

 Carry a watermelon around for a full day without dropping it

 Schedule a doctor’s appointment about that thing

 Schedule a dentist appointment about that other thing

 Schedule a therapist appointment about many things

 Breathe exclusively through your nose until you’re done reading this list

 Delete any tweets you may have written talking shit about babies

 Ask your parents if your own existence was really worth the effort

 Schedule another therapist appointment after the above conversation

 Three to five years relevant experience in keeping yourself and things (plants, cats, dogs, fishies….) alive

 Ask yourself if you really want to go back to living with a roommate at this stage of your life

 Review your calendar and make sure you don’t have any commitments over the next two decades that would conflict with raising a child

 Watch Being John Malkovich right away. This has nothing to do with learning about parenting, but it’s just the kind of movie that’s a little too heady for a baby to appreciate

 Listen to “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac without crying

 Listen to “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac and realize that it’s actually brave if you cry

 Couldn’t hurt to brush up on your multiplication tables

 Start eliminating baby names based on who’s trending online

 Unmute all your parent friends whose Instagram posts are quickly shifting from obnoxious to relatable

 Forget every statistic you’ve ever read about climate change and overpopulation

 Get in the habit of spelling out words you don’t want your kid to repeat, like F-U-C-K-I-N-G-S-H-I-T

 Google “having baby scared don’t know what i’m doing”

 Get ahead of the curve and familiarize yourself with the PAW Patrol extended universe

 Shriek in the background of your partner’s Zoom calls to make sure they’ve got a handle on the mute button

 Attend a mandatory three-hour virtual seminar about how to properly onboard your baby into existence

 Update your household’s style guide to render a verdict on whether to call the baby by its first name, a nickname, or “Mr. Baby”

 Reach out to current moms (at any child stage but preferably newborns or teenagers) you know for an informational coffee at their home with the kid(s) present

 Remember that no matter how unfathomable becoming a parent may seem, literally billions of people have done it before you, and most of them didn’t have iPads to shove in front of their kids’ faces when things got tough. It will be miserable, it will be the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and it will be a great excuse to stock up on applesauce

 Oh shit, almost forgot: DIAPERS. Jesus, yes, definitely get an avalanche of diapers. However many diapers you think you need, quadruple it. You will no longer have a home. You’ll have a diaper storage unit with beds in it