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Published On: Aug 25, 2004 09:37 PM
Total entries in this category:
Published On: Aug 25, 2004 09:37 PM
Always On My Mind
What if we have nothing to regret but regret
itself?
One of my favorite things to ask people that I am
trying to get to know better is what things they fear the most. It is a sure
sign that I read too much of a certain tragic genre or have too big a soft spot
for that Willie Nelson song,
that one of my biggest fears is regret.
The flip side of being very grateful for the blessings in my life is that I am aware of how much I have to lose. Aside from the mommy superpower of being able to walk into a room and see every possible, attractive danger lurking for my children (PLEASE don't climb those bookshelves, sweetheart!) the everpresent awareness of the potential for loss is manifested in my life as a weird guilt every time I yell at my kids. I fear this literary realization of my failure to appreciate what I have, that one day I'll be sighing "Why did I yell at them for making a mess? If only I had my small children in my house making messes again!" Or a spasm of irritation and frustration when Søren has a particularly needy day, keeping me from doing what I want, is accompanied by the awareness that babyhood passes quickly and I am going to miss having a baby to hold.
Counting my blessings:
I think that fearing regret may offer some useful perspective when I am struggling with the frustrations of this hour, but it can grow bigger than my gratitude for what I have, because ultimately it means not living in the present. Guilt is a little sign that I need to change something in my life, but it's a painful way to live, because undealt with, it only compounds frustration. This weird fear of future regret gets in the way sometimes of just honestly acknowledging that mothering three little boys (or mothering period) is dreadfully difficult. Anticipation of future regret is itself regrettable. So there is an exercise in letting go.
I know I will miss holding Søren as a baby, just as I will miss Xander's often astute four-year-old insights into the world, or Aodán buoyant self-confidence, but that feeling is matched by excitement at seeing the individuals emerging fin my children, my joy that they are growing into people I really like.
Now, maybe I should read something lighter so I don't go envisioning myself as some tragic heroine...
The flip side of being very grateful for the blessings in my life is that I am aware of how much I have to lose. Aside from the mommy superpower of being able to walk into a room and see every possible, attractive danger lurking for my children (PLEASE don't climb those bookshelves, sweetheart!) the everpresent awareness of the potential for loss is manifested in my life as a weird guilt every time I yell at my kids. I fear this literary realization of my failure to appreciate what I have, that one day I'll be sighing "Why did I yell at them for making a mess? If only I had my small children in my house making messes again!" Or a spasm of irritation and frustration when Søren has a particularly needy day, keeping me from doing what I want, is accompanied by the awareness that babyhood passes quickly and I am going to miss having a baby to hold.
Counting my blessings:
I think that fearing regret may offer some useful perspective when I am struggling with the frustrations of this hour, but it can grow bigger than my gratitude for what I have, because ultimately it means not living in the present. Guilt is a little sign that I need to change something in my life, but it's a painful way to live, because undealt with, it only compounds frustration. This weird fear of future regret gets in the way sometimes of just honestly acknowledging that mothering three little boys (or mothering period) is dreadfully difficult. Anticipation of future regret is itself regrettable. So there is an exercise in letting go.
I know I will miss holding Søren as a baby, just as I will miss Xander's often astute four-year-old insights into the world, or Aodán buoyant self-confidence, but that feeling is matched by excitement at seeing the individuals emerging fin my children, my joy that they are growing into people I really like.
Now, maybe I should read something lighter so I don't go envisioning myself as some tragic heroine...
Posted: Fri - June 13, 2003 at 01:46 PM