By Sandra Heggen
This morning I was trying to justify how long it was between arising and sitting down to journal. I listed all the things I’d done, to prove I was worth my day’s salt, worth doo-doo.
I’m not beholden to a boss. I’m retired; it’s nobody’s business how I use my time. Still, I seem to need to explain every little thing. What difference does it make? To whom?
If I don’t do “enough” I feel like–what? Like doo-doo? Like I’m not good? Not good enough? Lacking in moral rectitude? Any other version of personal lack?
Why can’t I accept the fact that being alive is enough? You know that old saw about being a human being, not a human doing. How might I do a human, being?
I do better than I used to. I’m not quite so driven. That’s more a function of my physical inability than any major change in attitude. If I could do, do, I probably would. Doo-doo.
Why are we so hard on ourselves? I’m not the only one who does this to herself. You know that. There are millions of women who suffer the same message, yet we drive ourselves to the edge of disaster and, way too often, over it.
Very few simply take pleasure in just being alive. OK, OK, I know the world’s in a lot of turmoil and fear and anger right now, and it can be difficult to enjoy life when that sort of stuff, that sort of doo-doo is going on.
But it’s not impossible.
To paraphrase the Gnostic gospel of Thomas, “heaven is spread before you and you see it not.” That means hell is, too, I suppose.
Which do I choose to see? Sometimes one, sometimes the other.
Hell makes me feel sad, depressed, despairing. Like doo-doo.
Heaven is harder to see, but when I do, I feel content, warm, satisfied. Happy.
Let’s work on that heaven thing a little bit more. Not “do” heaven, but simply notice it, experience it. It’s there.
A tsunami changes a shoreline in the blink of an eye, but tsunamis are rare. Everyday waves and tides really do the work of change. We can gain heaven by our everyday ebbs and flows. We can gain hell that way, too. It’s up to us to be notice which we’re choosing. Our choice.
So, back to me.
Why do I beat myself up over taking “too much time for too little,” or, the corollary, “not doing enough” in the time I have? Isn’t it time to stop doing that? To give myself a little bit of heaven more often, and not give myself so much hell?
Well, yeah! Duh!
So, be aware. I’ve said this, preached this, and I still can’t do it as well as I want. I can rectify that. Awareness is something I can do that can help me to be. And isn’t that what I want? “Doing” being.
I can do that.
I’m a medical technologist retired on disability after 25 years in federal civil service. I’ve lived in central Texas since 1966 so, while I’m not a native, I consider myself a Texan. Writing is now my career and I’m enjoying it tremendously.