Small Steps to Well-Being

Hi, friends. I need to admit that, for the last little while, I have felt stuck and even sometimes like I'm moving backward on my journey toward healing and true well-being. I have been struggling from time to time to show up and do battle with the untamed parts of my mind and have not always been able to convince myself that the things I want to be true about myself can ever be realized. For a while, I felt like I was making big strides in the direction I wanted to go, but then it seemed the scenery stopped changing noticeably and I had to ask myself if I was still even moving forward. Progress became a thing so small, I felt I was having trouble measuring it and was tempted to stop even trying to do so. Big strides in personal growth feel like progress and accomplishment, but the minutia of thought work feels more like a standstill sometimes.

It's like when you're building a house. All the concrete-pouring and framing and cabinets and doors are fun to watch because you can clearly see the house coming together before your eyes. House building becomes tedious, though, when you get to things like electricity and plumbing and insulation. You can't see the daily progress and you wonder what on earth is taking so long. It gets more tedious still, in my opinion, when you have to think about things like hinges and door stops and outlet covers. Things that, while technically visible, are just pretty boring and seem annoying to have to put brain cycles on. But, the truth is, none of us would much enjoy living in a house without electricity and plumbing, even if it had gorgeous walls and doors. And all those other little things certainly serve important purposes and truly make the house livable. 

Apparently this week the Universe has made a mission out of reminding me that I am still making progress even when it's hard to see or feel. That, in fact, the small stuff is THE stuff. Those small steps are everything. As Zeno, the founder of the Stoic school of philosophy, put it, "Well-being is realized by small steps, but is truly no small thing." My well-being, and yours, is no small thing. Let's keep taking however many small steps it takes to arrive at well-being, even when they feel tedious or we can't really see progress. Eventually, we will surprise and delight ourselves by the lives we've been able to create simply by putting one foot in front of the other.  

Here were some other beautiful reminders from the week:

  

A Tribute to Moms: I see you

Unbelievably--because I don't feel like I should be old enough and because there were so many moments when I didn't think I would survive--I have now lived through all the stages of raising kids (at least once)--from infancy to adulthood. This most definitely does not make me an expert. If anything, it has only made me deeply aware of all I don't know and all I still have to learn. But one thing I do know is motherhood is probably the most important, least appreciated job on the planet. And so, today, on Mother's Day, I want to recognize all the moms loving their kids and doing the best they can day in and day out. You are all amazing and I'm so thankful for each of you! 

I see your sleepless nights, rocking and feeding fussy babies or waiting anxiously for teenagers to come home. I see you setting your alarm 30 minutes earlier than necessary just so you can have a moment to yourself, and then using that time to clean up last night's dishes or pick up the toys scattered on the floor or throw in another load of laundry. I see you reading the same picture book over and over and over, and then beaming when your little one learns how to read the words back to you. I see you desperately thrusting a tiny person at your partner the minute they walk in the door. I see you packing lunches and backpacks and reminding everyone to put on their shoes, and then making another trip up to the school when the lunch or the homework or the sporting equipment is forgotten at home. I see you kissing boo-boos and solving problems with whimsical bandages. I see you absorbing all the pain of a first broken heart and talking through problems that no amount of whimsy can fix. I see you working all day at your paying job and rushing out the door the minute you can to make it to the game and be your kid's biggest cheerleader. I see you celebrating all the victories and comforting all the defeats. I see you grabbing dinner in the drive-thru because you don't have the time to cook and still get everyone to their activities on time. I see you spending hours in the kitchen making nutritious meals for your family that they refuse to eat or only eat reluctantly. I see you watching your odometer turn over another thousand miles and wondering how that can be when you never even left town. I see you researching all the things late at night because you're worried and you just want to help your kiddo. I see you slogging through the mundanity of the days and asking yourself when was the last time you even showered. I see you hoping this stage will end soon and that it will never end. I see you staying up well past midnight to put the finishing touches on a beautiful birthday cake that will be destroyed and devoured in a matter of minutes but will make your kiddo smile, and that smile is everything. I see you sacrificing your comfort for the comfort of your kids. I see you facing challenges while trying to co-parent with someone with whom you do not share your daily life. I see you signing all the forms and paying all the fees. I see you finding the lost thing that simply can't be found. I see you producing a perfect costume for the school project--that you just found out about this afternoon but is due tomorrow--out of odds and ends you just happen to have laying around the house. I see you lighting up when your tween forgets they aren't little and reaches for your hand. I see you stomping on the floorboard of the passenger side of your car during a driving lesson with your new driver, as if there might be a brake there to help you slow things down. I see your eyes filling with tears created from a mixture of pride and grief as your adult child walks out the door to start their own life apart from you. I see you comparing notes with your mom tribe. I see you crying on the floor in your closet, wishing you had that tribe to turn to for help and encouragement. I see your heart filled with more love than you ever imagined it could hold and your mind filled with concern that you are screwing it all up. I see you doing all the things--day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year--sometimes without any help, almost always without any thanks or recognition or praise.

Please, hear this now and let it settle on your heart: Your work as a mom matters so much and you are doing a good job. It is brave, beautiful work--hard, for sure, but worth it. And I want you to know I see you showing up day after day and giving it your best. You are amazing! Thank you for all you do.  

{I also want to say I see all of you who are grieving the loss of a child or the loss of the dream of having children. And I see those of you who have chosen not to be moms and those helping raise other people's children. Those are also brave, beautiful paths to walk.}