Smudges and Stains - for Sherri

A friend inspired me to blog in spite of not being "put together" today. She insisted how "unlikable and boring" it is to see only the good on people's blogs. While I have often used this blog to count my blessings, and to have something positive and fun to look back on, needing that exercise in gratitude, I'm deciding to brave the nasty today and just write, because it haunts me that I haven't been on here for so long. Plus, the idea that I might encourage someone else in their own battle...that holds great appeal for me.

And why have I been so long absent? Sherri nailed it. I haven't had anything pretty to say, or if I have, I haven't possessed the fortitude to say it. The reason for this? Somewhere in the summer last year, the world began to crack. In August, steam and sulfur began to rise from said crack and the first of the low tremors began to be felt. Not long after that, a gaping, seething fissure violently tore forth from that crack: a roiling, livid chasm, threatening to devour all who got too close. Trying to escape led to discovery of breach after breach in the ground I knew...rather, thought I knew.

The earth would quake for days, threatening to shake loose the very marrow of my bones. Then the deceitful quiet would creep in, during which I'd attempt to gather what hadn't been broken, or what seemed to not be broken, breathe, and move forward. Barely on my feet, I'd be knocked relentlessly to the pulsating ground again as the earth decided to show me yet again who was boss. No foothold, no sense, just constant battering. Jarring, aching, endless confusion and pain. Then the "quiet"....rinse and repeat. It took months of this routine before the planet decided to settle and find its new geography. The aftershocks of the raging earthquakes that tore the fabric of my existence can still be felt today. The continents are altered and still drifting, trying to find their new resting places, but at least they have not been swallowed up.

In spite of all this (and no, I won't go into details. I'm not that brave), I'm sitting here blogging. In my pajamas, with unwashed hair, unbrushed teeth, true, but still, feeling blessed. Feeling blessed that I can hear the cheerful chirps of my youngest playing contentedly in her room, smiling that she is happy, and for the moment, untroubled by the agitation of her recent past.

I've learned a lot over the past months. I've learned to forgive in a new way, and that includes myself. I've learned that I may NEVER get everything done. I'm still trying to come to terms with feeling alright with that one, and just be pleased that I am upright and mobile, given the catastrophe I lived through. Would I expect a survivor of a literal natural disaster to have a sparkling house and shiny children and perfect meals and the semblance of no dirty dishes, laundry, or toilets?? No! Would I expect this of functional, focused, and ordinary moms?? NO! So, why be so hard on myself?

Even as I type this, the fact that I have 1/4 sink of dirty dishes and a few baskets of dirty laundry and floors and bathrooms that need to be cleaned is bothering me. I smile to myself, realizing I talk all big about being gentle with myself, but I'm not. I guess the growth lies in that now I know it might be a little bit more okay if I were.

So, Sherri. Smudges and stains? You bet. Unmade beds? Check. Stinky sink syndrome? We've had that. Days in our jammies when we do nothing but movies and jigsaw puzzles? Absolutely. Is this acceptable? :) This is the part I struggle with. I yearn to be perfect. But it ain't neva gonna happen. Least not on this earth. :)

But, life does go on. We are stronger than we think. And the triumph lies in finding things that truly matter underneath the noise and clutter and nonsense the world calls "important."

If you come to my house, you will find mess. You just plain and simple will. It's a reality I'm coming to terms with, because it's more important to me that I clean out the rubble on the inside than the outside right now. As long as my kids are happy, fed, and mostly clean, I'm OKAY. From there, my responsibility comes in continuing to fight the battle that has been placed before me. And that battle, my friends, is bigger than poor housekeeping. We each have our own. We will each have times in our lives when everything just falls apart and gets shaken to bits. It's how we grow, I'm told. We all have tears and messes, pain and disappointments. Not only is this acceptable, it's essential. And we should maybe be a little kinder to ourselves during recovery.

So, you've been invited into the mess of me a bit more today. :) Thank you for the ways you have helped me clean up the messes of my life. I hope that when yours come up, you will let me know how I can help you with yours.