My daughter is nearly 25 and living her own life, Mum and my mother in law are gone; the need for me to care has stopped - for now. Yet this flood of tears made me realise that, inside, the constant anxiety, the anticipation of disaster, has become so ingrained that, unwittingly, I am still there in that emotional space, suspended between the last hospital visit and the next, waiting to be needed again. It was a sobering thought and made me wonder how one gets beyond such deeply ingrained responses, grown over a period of many years. Yet isn't that how life is for all of us? We live in a world that requires things from us, and in which things happen to us and, for the most part, we react instinctively. Things good and bad draw responses from us, responses we often don't think about or question. It is as though our souls learn to generalise, cease to be in that childhood state of newness where each thing in a wonder and each event fresh and untried. These instinctive, unregulated reactions to life are often a source of compassionate action, of laughter, of pure delight. They can also be the source of bigotry, hate and misery. If we have a bad day at work, or someone is unpleasant to us, our response to that can lead to more misery. We may snap at a shop assistant because we're feeling grumpy, fail to see a loved one's need because we're still rehearsing the nasty thing that man said this morning.
For me, Mindfulness is a way of trying to mediate these reactions. If we take the time to watch ourselves, not in a self centred me, me, me way, but in a spirit of investigation and of letting go, hopefully we find ourselves questioning that stab of irritation, realising that perhaps the person who has just been unkind may be having a really bad day themselves. They are simply people, not the enemy, and letting go of the negative response allows us to move forward in clarity, dropping the inevitable reaction at "them" and leaving it where it belongs, in the past. Now is always now, the past will always have happened, but we can encourage ourselves to leave the bad things there. How this helps with my impending sense of catastrophe, I'm not entirely sure. It is so ingrained I am mostly unaware of it, other than as a constant disquiet whispering in the back of my mind. However, I shall try. I know when I am old, it will be my dearest wish that my daughter is not burdened with my care. I also recognise what a deep and welcome gift caring for Mum proved to be. She would not want me to still be anxious, just as I would not want Jen to feel this way. With awareness may come release.
Thank you for your words on mindfulness. They have struck a chord this morning and have made me think twice about how I feel about something that was said to me last week
ReplyDeleteI know exactly what you mean about the constant anxiety. The two years between losing Dad and Mum dying, were just like a pinball game where we ricocheted from one crisis to another, some where practical and some where emotional, but the knock-on effect is that dull, constant, low-level feeling of dread, even though there's really nothing obvious to worry about.
ReplyDeleteSome days, when the feeling is strong, I consciously try to work out why, but it's not always clear.
But I think you're right - this is just a natural state and probably goes with the territory of being a daughter, wife, mother etc. At least you can be sure, you're not alone.
Thank you both for comments, it's good to know that sharing is meaningful, we do so very often feel alone, when actually, all around us people are feeling similar things, but "putting on a brave face". There's something there about authenticity, masks and exposure.
ReplyDeleteGina, hope you're feeling more settled. I was interested to note that a number of blogs I follow had posts about feeling low - perhaps it's to do with the onset of winter.
Be gentle on yourselves