When my kids were quite small, I was a stay home mother and I was consumed with the everyday things that stay home mothers are consumed with.
Some of them were important, like food in the pantry and on the table having clean clothing for school. Other things were NOT at all important, like whether or not a child was smiling in a family photo.
I have an awful memory of myself making one of my children feel really bad for not smiling in the family photo.
I was so HELL bent of having this “perfect” moment, that I could not find the maturity to ask a simple question like, “Honey, what’s the matter? Are you feeling ok?” or to just let the photographer do their thing and realize that the photo was just a moment in a long string of moments.
As I remember this, I feel so sick about my own actions that I can barely forgive myself.
But forgiveness of self is exactly what I need to do here.
I did the best I could. I really did. We all do the best we can.
As Oprah says, “When we know better, we do better.”
I know better and I do better these days.
If you can think of something you could have done better and you have a chance to apologize, do it.
Do better next time.
Begin a conversation with someone who you have inadvertently hurt and ask for forgiveness.
Tell them how much you care.
It is very cliché, but authentic remorse really does clear up a lot of fog.
Love really does find a way.
Love and light,
A few hours ago I was in Guatemala sitting and laughing with a group who came together in a serendipitous and synchronistic way to bring smiles to lonely and hurting folk. That was our ONLY purpose. We searched out second hand shops and costume stores, raided our husband’s closets and searched deep within our hearts to find our inner clown.
We donned red noses held up with thin elastic string and we wrapped feather boas and other decorations in our hair and we clambered onto a bus and screamed and waved to innocent bystanders as we zoomed by them.
We were NOT ourselves and we were our BEST selves.
Patch Adams says,
“Clowning is my favorite me”.
This simple statement made immediate sense to me.
This however is not the only self that I loved on this trip.
I loved the self that:
- taught the 16 year old new mom how to breast feed.
- lovingly worked with a small boy who was severely handicapped and
massaged his limbs for almost 75 minutes
- held the head of an exhausted mother who waited for her child to wake
up from surgery. She wept and I sang softly into her ear. Even though
I sang in English and she only spoke Spanish we did connect at the
- held a young clown who wept at the injustice of all that we saw and
did not know what to do with all the emotions that he felt.
- held an older clown who had just lost her dear four-legged friend to a
hungry coyote. We screamed and cursed the coyote and then we accepted
the circle of life and all the pain that it entails.
- sat quietly on the bus and watched the volcanoes and felt immense
gratitude for my eyes and my ability to come on this trip.
There are many other selves that I met and that I shared. All of them
had their place. I cannot really say that I had a favorite.
I have learned to like my selves.
I have learned to love my selves.
I have felt the joy of all my selves.
I invite you to begin to release some of your selves. Set them free.
Let them run wild. Allow them to trip and fall and get up again.
Make your nose red.
Get out of your head.
Put a smile on your face.
Make this world a sweeter place
Love & light,