I’m sure in a year’s time…
It is a challenge to keep faith with our ambitions when there seems to be so little tangible reason why we should. I’m sure in a year’s time, all the reasons why, will become clear…
Life and its routines continue much as usual, with the added dimension of seeing my mother much more often, of helping her, while also helping myself to see the advantages of her society. And her lessons to me – not always the ones I expect – help me to prioritise the necessary disciplines of writing, blogging and planning future projects.
We may say that, in aiming to do what we most yearn to do, it is a good idea to steer clear of politics, bad news, projects or people that drain our resources. And of course, I agree. But I also know that there is value to be gained even from those things that I don’t like. Thank God. Almost everything that happens – even the sad, the exhausting and the dubious – carries within it very valuable lessons.
I say, for example, that I am “tired of doing the housework all the time,” but in fact, that is merely me, telling myself that I have got used to doing too much for other people; and that if I have turned housework into a constant bugbear, it is up to me to change that into something more manageable.
If I don’t like spending my time doing mind-numbing jobs, reading mediocre books, listening to music that does nothing for me, or watching violent movies, there is a very simple solution. I can stop. I don’t “have” to do anything for anyone that they are capable of doing for themselves. I can stop (!!) doing laundry, making meals, organising diaries, remembering stuff. Because, by doing that kind of thing, I am actually implying – so subtly that I haven’t even realised that is what I have been doing – that other people can’t do it for themselves. A belief and a message which is destructive and entirely counter-productive. How, then, can I get more help with stuff I don’t like doing? Stop doing it.
So the things we say we don’t like, give us very valuable lessons about how we see our lives panning out: an increasingly important message for me when I feel that my days as an independent, professional person are numbered. Having had a very sore back for the best part of two weeks, I have been saddened to reflect that when I had a healthy back and better mobility, I did nothing much with that, except lots of things for everyone else! How disempowering my behaviour has been, to me and to others.
Instead of simply choosing to gravitate towards what I enjoy doing, I have used the bully-stick to do stuff that others would so much rather do for themselves. But if it takes a bad back, a sore head and some painful, sleepless nights to see a way to do what I prefer, it is worth it. Which is why I say, all life contains lessons.
***
Please share:
November 16, 2018
I’m sure in a year’s time
Fran Macilvey Fran's School of Hard Knocks, Happiness Matters 0 Comments
I’m sure in a year’s time…
It is a challenge to keep faith with our ambitions when there seems to be so little tangible reason why we should. I’m sure in a year’s time, all the reasons why, will become clear…
Life and its routines continue much as usual, with the added dimension of seeing my mother much more often, of helping her, while also helping myself to see the advantages of her society. And her lessons to me – not always the ones I expect – help me to prioritise the necessary disciplines of writing, blogging and planning future projects.
We may say that, in aiming to do what we most yearn to do, it is a good idea to steer clear of politics, bad news, projects or people that drain our resources. And of course, I agree. But I also know that there is value to be gained even from those things that I don’t like. Thank God. Almost everything that happens – even the sad, the exhausting and the dubious – carries within it very valuable lessons.
I say, for example, that I am “tired of doing the housework all the time,” but in fact, that is merely me, telling myself that I have got used to doing too much for other people; and that if I have turned housework into a constant bugbear, it is up to me to change that into something more manageable.
If I don’t like spending my time doing mind-numbing jobs, reading mediocre books, listening to music that does nothing for me, or watching violent movies, there is a very simple solution. I can stop. I don’t “have” to do anything for anyone that they are capable of doing for themselves. I can stop (!!) doing laundry, making meals, organising diaries, remembering stuff. Because, by doing that kind of thing, I am actually implying – so subtly that I haven’t even realised that is what I have been doing – that other people can’t do it for themselves. A belief and a message which is destructive and entirely counter-productive. How, then, can I get more help with stuff I don’t like doing? Stop doing it.
So the things we say we don’t like, give us very valuable lessons about how we see our lives panning out: an increasingly important message for me when I feel that my days as an independent, professional person are numbered. Having had a very sore back for the best part of two weeks, I have been saddened to reflect that when I had a healthy back and better mobility, I did nothing much with that, except lots of things for everyone else! How disempowering my behaviour has been, to me and to others.
Instead of simply choosing to gravitate towards what I enjoy doing, I have used the bully-stick to do stuff that others would so much rather do for themselves. But if it takes a bad back, a sore head and some painful, sleepless nights to see a way to do what I prefer, it is worth it. Which is why I say, all life contains lessons.
***
Please share: