I read, re-read, and listen to all words written or spoken by Anne Lamott. Nearly two years ago, when I first moved here, I read about a project she did with a friend, Project Miracle. I believe it was from Bird by Bird. For Project Miracle, you commit with a Trusted and Willing Other, each day, before anything else, to email a list of things for which you feel grateful, even the shitty things. That turned about to be as challenging as it was fun, the shitty things for which to be grateful. The deal is- you each exchange lists but….no feedback allowed. This project may be the only ritualized part of my life to which I have fully committed, since our dislocation relocation. As I look back over my sent emails, I see how the act of ritualistically acknowledging and sharing my first thoughts has helped me to practice acceptance for unpleasant facts. The no feedback or responses policy allows me to express things like: I am grateful that my mother is not more unkind to me than she is. Because I don’t want a cheerleader suggestion to see it differently. That is my space for acknowledging painful truth, on my way to acceptance. Anyway, below are some items from recent emails:
- As much as I shush my kids and demand for them to wait until we are not tying to get in or out of the car, I am grateful that they share the little things— which I believe are the big things. The principal is calling to talk to me regarding recent misconduct of a sub and the children being punished for sending her over the edge. What concerns me is the shame shifting and blaming children for bad behavior of others, particularly an adult to whom they have been entrusted. That seems to justify bullying and accepting abuse…Fuck that. I am grateful my kids shared in painful detail the mocking and bullying of the teacher and their concern for others. I am not excusing the misbehavior of anyone just asking that we all accept responsibility for own our own behavior. That we adjust and respond in ways that are healthy and sane. One person’s bad behavior does not cancel out that of another. And one person’s behavior is not caused by another. My sons get to see and hear this theme in action. Again. The timing on this is precious–as it mirrors the dynamic with my sister’s behaviors, which are divisive and diminishing to me. I do not earn or cause that anymore than those students made the sub call names and mock. Some people spend a lifetime never learning this….being right, justified, abusive. We cant fix it but we can sure identify it and talk about it.
- I am grateful that I promised Oliver I would play three games of Horse and that I will probably make good on all three today.
- I am grateful to still have kept my mitts off the Mothers day issue and weird guilt, shame, obligation, whatever.
- I am grateful for this terrible allergy attack which reduces my nagging guilt to do more of anything. Doing my job, caring for and nurturing my dogs and children, buying groceries, and not engaging in battles outside of my head is the best I can do.
- I am grateful Greg will come for the weekend and be a source of comfort and safety and not a source of pressure to be or to feel differently.
- I am grateful I have trained Golden to pee out front off leash with confidence that he comes when called and stays within a 15 ft radius of me. Less pee and poo on the floor is nice. He and I both feel better about this.
- I am grateful to have realized just because it is mother’s day, doesn’t make things different. Painful that I am here and we cannot be together unless I agree with them that I should just get over it and roll the dice with a near 100% chance of more of the same. I wonder if boys’ father will join in their festivities. I also do wonder if at any level my sister gets how badly she fucked up our family. She, in writing, publicly said and did thing so divisive and hateful that will keep us apart— until there is reason to believe that it may stop. I would be so humiliated if I were her- desperate to clean it up and beg for mercy and another chance….if for no other reason then our mother’s ticking clock. I do not miss them. I just never forget how close we are in geography and what a fucken mess remains, which I am powerless over. Every day and every hour I get to surrender that shit from the comfort of my home. I am grateful to know the practice of surrender…It is so much better than resignation.
Surrender, rituals, and gratitude are wholesomebadass motherfucken shit. Ha! Email or use the comment box to share some of the things you might, if you committed to project miracle. The shittier the better. Those entries bring the magical and sometimes funny moments of healing.
What a lovely opportunity! To make a gratitude list the very first thing. This is about the second, though, because I promised myself last night to look up a video on how to prune a Rose of Sharon. And did. The pruning will take a while – those suckers grow FAST.
1. I am so grateful for my dog. For my history with dogs. Only four of them, from 1991 until now, but it’s four little lifetimes. Four different persons, each passionately devoted to being him or herself. What can I learn from that? Little love affairs. My children, so undemanding, time-consuming… Bernie, lying beside me, the rescue dog who breathed shallowly, held himself so stiffly for a long time, now sighs deeply and relaxes fully.
2. Jeremy, my son who died a drunk, a philosopher, friend to hundreds, the most impractical person on earth, a comedian… I always love people who truly ARE terminally unique (like me?)
even if they have to die young. I was torn to pieces when he died and frequently ever since, but I thought – he died as he lived. He was always at the very edge, and at last he fell off.
3. Kate, the daughter who lives with me with the intention of taking care of me. When she moved here, I had this totally mistaken idea that I knew her. Not even! She is actually a little bit like me. She is also terminally unique. Asexual. Deliberately, sincerely. Tried being “like everybody else”, got married (the worst wedding I have ever seen), had a baby, got divorced, cut all ties to me. Then suddenly began to come around, and now here she is, making my life into part of her life and vice versa. Not what I asked for or wanted. But an opportunity to see and be something else unforeseen. Many of my friends think, insist even, that she is lesbian, and she admits this is one of the banes of her existence. She is greatly overweight, boy haircut, pretty face, never one bit of makeup, Wranglers almost all the time, cheap, cheap T-shirts, boots much of the time, loves motorcycles and cars, can describe in excruciating detail every piece of each of them. We now spend Saturday afternoons watching motocross races.
One learning about children is, they are not what you expect and they never will be.
4. Remembering my mother with love. Remembering my father as one of those people God gives us to make up for the rest.
5. My oldest child, my other son, whom I loved more than anybody until he started going crazy and won’t speak to me.
I could go on like this, you know. But I’ll let you off the hook. Thanks for making me think gratefully of strange things.
Thank you for sharing, as always courageously and generously letting me see you. What a privilege. Your description of your dad’s purpose on this earth is pure magic, though vastly different from my own. Your love and awareness for all that you are learning, mistaken about or to never fully know, but still appreciate in each of your children is breath-taking. And your dogs, your awareness of who they are and what they bring to your world. It would be nice to read their journals about you…just the dogs, not the children. Never let me off the hook, please. I hearT your hook and amy happy to be hooked by you!
Always,
Magda Gee