Reading Christina Baldwin’s “Life’s Companion” right now, trying to get some inspiration to begin journaling again. I don’t really consider my blog as a journal, since I write knowing it’s for public consumption. My journal is different – the writings are more private, more inwardly directed. But I am struck by this thought on guidance that I’m reading now:
“What gifts might the universe be trying to give you that you’re not taking?”
I’m sitting here with family right now, feeling a bit annoyed since the husband is sick, the sister-in-law is napping, my sons are involved in planning for their role playing games, the parent-in-laws are basically ignoring everyone and watching TV, so I read blogs and pick up my book to read. And this question hits me. Is there something here, now, that the universe is trying to give me? A greater patience and tolerance? A chance to connect, in those rare moments these people actually are awake and aware instead of absorbed in television? We shared a meal, and yet, no one really connected, we all seemed to eat separately and not really together. It felt strange. And yet, they seem to appreciate having family around, even while ignoring them, just as my mom used to.
I wonder at the strangeness in this, since when I have guests in my house, I’m absorbed in them, involved in their lives, with heightened awareness of their presence. Perhaps the gift is just to observe, to take note, to know better how to interact, how not to ignore those around me, and not let a television dominate the day and our lives – or my keyboard, for that matter.
Then again, I’m the one who has been out walking the dog today, greeting the neighbors, observing the beauty of an Arizona sunset, the one thing I truly miss about living here. I’m the one taking care of things, cleaning up things, making sure there is some sense of order. Maybe the universe wants me to be aware of how things are working, keep them moving. Perhaps the gift is an awareness of how chaotic life is for these people, how difficult it is just to keep things cleaned up and moving along.
I watch my mother-in-law wait on my father-in-law, and with my husband sick, find myself resenting my own role in having to play caretaker for him. I have felt so often lately that sense that no one is really taking care of me these days, other than me. I find myself looking for something from other people, some sense of others wanting to take care of me, and I don’t find it. But I trust the universe to take care of me, and me to take care of myself, and perhaps that is enough – for now.
But I see and feel a warning, an ominous sense of foreboding over the coming years. I want to be on an equal basis with someone, not the caretaker of someone, not fetching pie or yet another drink for my spouse who won’t get up to get his own food or drink. I just can’t envision myself in that future. And yet, it feels like we are headed that way today. Maybe the gift is in the warning I feel, maybe a sign that I need to look for someone to better care for and fulfill my own needs, instead of me always having to give up my own needs for someone else.
Lots of thoughts, but few answers today. Perhaps over time, it will become more clear.
3 Responses
Donna,
I’m a bit overwhelmed by your post. Although I’ve always seen the caring mother in you (by the posts I read that is), I didn’t know it was this deep-going.
While noone can really answer your questions, for they are all for personal interpretation, it might help you to think that whatever decission you take always reflects on the people in your surrounding. That’s something I try to keep up for myself. I know I haven’t been an example lately for noone, for my life is just living on the fast lane right now, but on the other hand, the people I do care about, know they can still rely and depend on me, no matter what turn they’ll take in their lifes. And I think that herein lies a little solution to the questions you ask yourself. Without really noticing, people do want to spend time in you, for think of it like this: if you should abrubtly fall away, they will start to organize themselves they way you’ve showed and thought them, no doubt about that! And that’s an inspiring thought.
Maybe all this thanksgiving is a bit overrated (we here in Belgium don’t celebrate it). I feel it’s much more important to do something out of the blue, totally unexpected. It’s the same as going to the cemetary on 1 November. The dead are not just represented that one day, they stay in your thoughts throughout the entire year. So I do think it’s a bit the same with TG.
Anyaway, don’t feel neglected for noone is, I’m sure about that. It all depends on how we try to compare what is now and what used to be, and that’s a very dangerous line to cross. The past should teach us, not to be used as a referenceboard to how things are going now, for no situation is the same.
I’m convinced that things will clear up for you, maybe not today, but surely tomorrow!
Thanks, Bert! I appreciate your thoughts. And it is clearer today, now that I’m back in my own home, with the television blessdly off (at least for the moment – I’m sure the hubby will have it on soon.)
I feel more at home in my own space, of course, but also just enjoying the quiet instead of the constant blare of the television. I was reminded of just how much it absorbed their lives, how they seem connected but are not really, merely watching the same things but not really thinking much about any of it. It seems I am always deeper in thought, even in lighter moments, than most of the people that I know will ever go.
Sigh. This is a lonely way to live… perhaps that why people who think deeply become monks and priests and hermits – they just tire of the shallowness of most poeple’s lives!
But I have my light moments, of course, as well. Even those are awake and aware times, though. I’m never far away from the observer…
Your post moved me. I was lucky enough, after being divorced 17 years, to find my true companion. I love doing things for her, little and big. She told me in 20+ years of marriage her husband had never once gotten her a drink, or bit of food, or rendered any of the other courtesies which make one feel loved and appreciated. He’d never once uttered the phrase “I’m sorry.” He took her for granted, and she took a hike. I don’t consider myself unusual in enjoying the daily giving which makes a relationship work, or pat myself on the back about it. It’s just life, and it’s just good.