About a year ago my husband and I found ourselves sitting in our CPA’s office with worry written all over our face. No, it wasn’t tax time. We were there to ask for advice- financial guidance. At that point, you couldn’t turn on the television without hearing all about the housing issue in America. Well, we were part of that housing issue. We did what so many other people in America had done- bought a home we couldn’t afford on the advice of our trustworthy (hmm hmm) mortgage provider. We found ourselves covered in debt with a cute little house we couldn’t afford. We stayed up many nights with worry wondering what we could possibly do to dig ourselves out of this hole. Unfortunately our sleepless nights did not take away any of the debt. Our house was on the market already but not selling. We were stuck.
So we made an appointment to see our CPA- hoping that he would give us some kind of magical solution, or at the very least, provide us with some options. And, in fact, we got some of the very best advice from him that day- advice that I actually think about daily. He listened to the two of us ramble on and on about our situation. He sat quietly as we unloaded every financial problem we could think of that was lingering behind our cute red front door. And at the end, he said, “First of all, I want you both to take a breath. This is going to be okay.”
Really? How did he think this was going to be okay? How could we possibly ever be okay again with this debt and the house and the lack of promised raises from my husband’s teaching job and on and on and on? But he said clearly, “Take a breath. This is going to be okay.” And with those words, my husband and I both sat back in those hard, wooden chairs in his office and took a breath. We stopped worrying for just a moment and allowed ourselves to feel that is was going to be alright. We didn’t know how, we didn’t know when, and, honestly, we are still working it all out a year later. But that day we both saw a glimmer of hope and a moment of relief.
How odd that this man- someone we met with once a year to work on our taxes (who also, by the way, had called to check on some tax information while I was in labor with our second child and I answered and talked to him!) helped us take a step back and realize that this too will pass. We hadn’t trusted ourselves enough to do that on our own. We were too busy worrying and beating ourselves up for the poor decisions we had made. So our kind certified public accountant threw us a life preserver. He didn’t fix the problem, but he helped us to stop spinning and start breathing again.
So to you I say, take a breath. Whatever struggle you face- this too is going to be okay. Pass it on.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
And if your inner voice wasn't negative enough, Style Network will help...
I just saw an ad for Style Network's new show, what i HATE about me! Really? There is a show now to encourage us to hate ourselves? This is Style Network's description of the show: Real women admit their imperfections—and Style's A-list experts share practical tips for fixing every foible. This is exactly what I don't want my young daughters to watch. I won't post a link to the site, because, quite frankly, I think we do enough of this on our own. No need to watch a show of stylists fixing women's seeming imperfections.
The Voice
Have you ever listened to the conversation you have with yourself all day? Don't tell me you don't talk to yourself- we all do it. I was astonished at the incredible number of negative comments I say to myself about myself during the day. If you have ever kept up with this, you may have noticed the same trend. I am constantly talking to myself and it's not all good. Some of it is so terribly random, I hate to even admit it but, to make my point, I will, in fact, share some of my recent conversations with myself.
Me to Me upon waking and looking in the mirror: Oh your hair this morning is just wild and look at all those grays!
Me to Me at Cheekwood on one of the first “flip-flop”days of spring: Look how big and spread out your toes look in those flip-flops! Hers are so cute over there, but yours look like a beast! And your toenail polish! Why didn’t you take that ugly color off?
Me to Me on running at the park this morning: I wonder if that mother over there thinks you are crazy to be so big and trying to run. I am sure she thinks you should just be walking. Even if you want to run, you shouldn’t be running. You are simply too big. Only small, running kind of people run in the park.
Just writing those comments makes my stomach turn. When did I get to be my own enemy? When did I become that person that can’t see the pretty in me or the good? I only look for the icky parts to point out- I’m too big, too wide, too curly, too everything of the bad stuff. Do we do that to make ourselves feel better somehow? Surely not. Do we do that to make ourselves realize we're not “good” and need to keep working on ourselves? And while my comments I mentioned were about my appearance, they could just as easily be about my parenting skills, my career, or other similar avenues. Geneen Roth writes about this attack we take on ourselves in her book Women, Food, and God. She writes, “Although the very notion that hatred leads to love and that torture leads to relaxation is absolutely insane, we hypnotize ourselves into believing that the end justifies the means.” She goes on to say, “We treat our bodies as if they are the enemy and the only acceptable outcome is annihilation. Our deeply ingrained belief is that hatred and torture work. And although I’ve never met anyone- not one person- for whom warring with their bodies led to long-lasting change, we continue to believe that with a little more self-disgust, we’ll prevail.”
It makes complete sense, doesn’t it? How could any good come of beating ourselves up everyday from the time we wake up until the time we rest our tired heads on our pillows at night? The only reason I even admit to this is that I know other women and men do this too.
So…what to do? Well I am trying to take stock of that “voice” in me. I’m becoming aware of that voice in me that is so incredibly destructive. When I hear it sneaking into my head, I try to hear it but not let it get me. In fact, I try to counter it with something positive. I know I have positive things to share with myself. We all do. They are in us, just as much as that ugly voice. So when I see my wild curls in the mirror, I think of my oldest daughter’s same kind of curls and the absolute beauty I see when I look at her. We share this trait and it is lovely. I want to be aware of the good in me. I know I can.
Roth writes so eloquently on this subject. “Either you are willing to believe in kindness or you aren’t. Either you are willing to believe in the basic sanity of your being or you aren’t. To be given wings, you’ve got to be willing to believe that you were put on this earth for more than your endless attempts to lose the same thirty pounds three hundred times for eighty years. And that goodness and loveliness are possible, even in something as mundane as what you put in your mouth for breakfast. Beginning now.”
Me to Me upon waking and looking in the mirror: Oh your hair this morning is just wild and look at all those grays!
Me to Me at Cheekwood on one of the first “flip-flop”days of spring: Look how big and spread out your toes look in those flip-flops! Hers are so cute over there, but yours look like a beast! And your toenail polish! Why didn’t you take that ugly color off?
Me to Me on running at the park this morning: I wonder if that mother over there thinks you are crazy to be so big and trying to run. I am sure she thinks you should just be walking. Even if you want to run, you shouldn’t be running. You are simply too big. Only small, running kind of people run in the park.
Just writing those comments makes my stomach turn. When did I get to be my own enemy? When did I become that person that can’t see the pretty in me or the good? I only look for the icky parts to point out- I’m too big, too wide, too curly, too everything of the bad stuff. Do we do that to make ourselves feel better somehow? Surely not. Do we do that to make ourselves realize we're not “good” and need to keep working on ourselves? And while my comments I mentioned were about my appearance, they could just as easily be about my parenting skills, my career, or other similar avenues. Geneen Roth writes about this attack we take on ourselves in her book Women, Food, and God. She writes, “Although the very notion that hatred leads to love and that torture leads to relaxation is absolutely insane, we hypnotize ourselves into believing that the end justifies the means.” She goes on to say, “We treat our bodies as if they are the enemy and the only acceptable outcome is annihilation. Our deeply ingrained belief is that hatred and torture work. And although I’ve never met anyone- not one person- for whom warring with their bodies led to long-lasting change, we continue to believe that with a little more self-disgust, we’ll prevail.”
It makes complete sense, doesn’t it? How could any good come of beating ourselves up everyday from the time we wake up until the time we rest our tired heads on our pillows at night? The only reason I even admit to this is that I know other women and men do this too.
So…what to do? Well I am trying to take stock of that “voice” in me. I’m becoming aware of that voice in me that is so incredibly destructive. When I hear it sneaking into my head, I try to hear it but not let it get me. In fact, I try to counter it with something positive. I know I have positive things to share with myself. We all do. They are in us, just as much as that ugly voice. So when I see my wild curls in the mirror, I think of my oldest daughter’s same kind of curls and the absolute beauty I see when I look at her. We share this trait and it is lovely. I want to be aware of the good in me. I know I can.
Roth writes so eloquently on this subject. “Either you are willing to believe in kindness or you aren’t. Either you are willing to believe in the basic sanity of your being or you aren’t. To be given wings, you’ve got to be willing to believe that you were put on this earth for more than your endless attempts to lose the same thirty pounds three hundred times for eighty years. And that goodness and loveliness are possible, even in something as mundane as what you put in your mouth for breakfast. Beginning now.”
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