Open to them

“If you don’t make the time to work on creating the life you want, you’re eventually going to be forced to spend a LOT of time dealing with the life that you don’t want.” Kevin Ngo

I do not usually like quotes that are somewhat threatening in tone, but I do like this one as it reminds me to be responsible for looking after my life. My life is in my hands and I need to give it meaning and purpose if I want us to flourish.

But looking after my daily life is just part of my personal responsibility. Another part is to make meaning out of my past.

”My mother was the love of my life.” – is a quote from Cheryl Strayed that I embrace warmly.

I adore this sentence so much for so many reasons but mainly for how well it counters our blame-oriented culture of today, the culture that seeks to blame our parents for who we have or have not become. The culture that renders us deficient in will and efficacy because of who our parents were or weren’t. The culture that teaches us to point fingers at the people whose youth, intentions and histories we cannot possibly experience. I think it’s good to work through childhood traumas, it’s good to examine our responses to them, but I do not think that we should succumb to the culture of blame. Because by doing that, we see our childhood as poorer than it actually was. I saw people being poisoned by the blame-oriented mindset more than by their actual childhood experiences. I saw people being stuck for years because of it. ”My mother was the love of my life.” – this sentence does the opposite. It gives meaning and sense to our childhoods. It shows that adults are fragile but also wonderfully capable of loving each other. Capable of loving deeply and dearly, and isn’t it what we all want? To be capable of such love for many people in our lives.

Sometimes I wonder what’s the purpose of the blame-oriented culture. To break, to divide, to render someone insecure. To cause grief? I know that many people would not be able to be so candid about their own mothers as Cheryl Strayed was. I know that for many their childhood experiences are too painful to even hear such words being spoken. But this quote is not only about the mother, right? But about the loves of our life. Beyond the question of our relationship with our parents, it nudges us to ask: What are the loves of our life? What can we do to be truly open to them?

The Uncertainty of Parenthood

When my son was born, I was overwhelmed by the enormity of tender-hearted love that I felt but I also felt shocked, I mean TOTALLY UNPREPARED for the amount of anxiety and uncertainty that characterizes these very early moments and then the subsequent years of parenthood. This uncertainty is caused by different circumstances for each one of us, sometimes it’s lonely mothering, a child’s illness, a changing work situation or a move to a different country, and sometimes the well-known sleepless nights or feeding problems, and sometimes by all these things at once. The fear and anxiety is present and experienced by all – it’s the given and the universal to our parenting experiences.

We deal with this uncertainty in many different ways, we cling to books, we cling to people, we cling to ideas, we cling to our identities or we withdraw, we withdraw from books, withdraw from people, withdraw from each other, withdraw from ourselves. All of this is supposed to help us handle the physical exhaustion and the cocktail of emotions that appear in the early phases of parenting. Pema Chödrön once quoted a Times article which said that we are more afraid of uncertainty than we are of physical pain.

I think she was right here.

She also wisely advised that in order to deal with uncertainties we must learn to smile at fear. To accept all the complex thoughts and feelings that engulf us in periods of uncertainty. Because it is only then that we will be able to understand what it means to be a human. Because it is only then that we will be able to understand and empathise with other people, but also with oneself. Yes, with oneself.

When we stay open to what’s ahead of us, the road widens and our curiosity grows and that’s what gives us courage to be together with our children and with our loved-one on each section of that road, walking together, with calm curiosity little by little, one intriguing section at a time.

On Valentine’s Day my husband, son and I went for a walk to an area of hills and valleys close to where we live. We just wanted a short walk down the valley and I was wearing a dress and everyday shoes (and my heavy camera without any charged batteries, grrr). Certainly not a type of gear to do any climbing in. I did not know that we would climb, with our son on my husband’s shoulders, in many ways unprepared. We were stepping higher and higher… curious what the world would look like if we went up just another ten more metres. We enjoyed the walk up, checking we had good footholds and letting each other and others know to avoid the wet and slippery bare rock that sometimes presented itself in the path. We enjoyed being given helpful suggestions by passing walkers and most of all we enjoyed the freedom and exhilaration of the climb up into the fresh and gentle cold breeze, periodically heated by a bright but distant winter sun. And then little by little we smilingly reached the top, sat for a moment on the highest point, and stared at the other rocky peaks that we one day might want to climb.

When I return to the time when I gave birth, I see myself as ‘unprepared in so many ways’. I still see myself now as ‘unprepared in so many ways’, but I am convinced that even unprepared we can still climb.

, an

Driving lessons, pubs and fishing

For a long time I did not have a need to drive in the UK. Back in Poland, our family home was situated next to a railway line and so the thought of travelling by train was as natural to me as eating bread for breakfast. I’m never shy of taking a bus either. I like collective travel and am always fond of meeting people at bus stops, on trains and trams and striking up a conversation with them. In fact, travelling by public transport has given me some beautiful memories and associations. My wonderful friendships have been made stronger when sitting at a table in a cross-country train.

With our son growing up, however, I feel that I would like to be able to go to places with him which are not so well connected by public transport. My desire was always to bring him up in a way that allows him to connect with people of different walks of life, to see how differently people work and live (I wrote about it here). I wish this for myself too, of course. I like to learn about people, learn about their lives, lifestyles, values and customs (like I did here and here). I think what I really like seeing is their sense of pride, of who they are and what they do. I like when people value themselves. Both their work and their toils. There are many great, bitter-sweet stories that could be written out of our daily experiences. Noticing the stories to tell is perhaps the first step on our road to self-worth and life-appreciation.

So in order to tell a few more stories on this blog and to meet more people, I have summoned my courage to drive a bit more, to drive beyond my very small driving-comfort zone. I paid for a few refresher classes and asked my driving instructor if we could go to places that he knows well around my area – I love that very much when people show me what they find important and fascinating. It is then that I stretch myself most when I go to places that I might not normally go to. (Perhaps that is why I love to read blogs, because I feel that blogs take me where I would probably never gone on my own :))

Pub 1 — The John Thompson Inn and Brewery, Ingleby (near Derby)

One of my dreams as a mum is to be able to show my son that he has options. That there are mainstream and not-so-mainstream things that he can do in life. I want him to see that there are many different things worth doing and to develop a good sense of respect towards the value of human endeavor. Very often, in Zadie Smith’s words, we “mask self-doubt with contempt” – we scorn the skills that we would like to possess or mock decisions that other people make. It’s this less graceful part of our human condition. It’s also the part that is actually very often responsible for our fall, or for the fact that we never develop the potential that’s in us. When we criticize what people do, what they have, how they behave, we always send a message to ourselves that we do not want to become like them; but actually there is also another side to this story. Too often we criticise because actually we would like to be like them. I am a firm believer that appreciation of another human being and respect towards who they are and what they do make us notice quicker what’s alive in us.

My driving instructor loves fishing so he took me to places where he would normally fish. Around those fishing spots you can often find some amazing English pubs that anglers can visit after a decent catch. I was telling my husband a lot about my driving instructor’s tales. My three-year-old son was eavesdropping. Next morning he climbed on to our bedside cabinet, took my belt and said: ‘Mama, look, I’m fishing.’

Appreciation of the stories of others alerts us to what’s alive in us.

For a long time I was using public transport because, of course I feared driving, but also because I enjoyed the companionship that comes with journeying with others. The camaraderie was my reward. Since I no longer do those commutes I miss that daily dosage of human stories. Maybe driving will become the habit which will earn me my reward (new places, new stories). What are the habits that you would like to develop? What are the stories that you pay a particular attention to these days? Are they making you more alive?

Sea Monsters

“The sea snail slithered all over the rock
And gazed at the sea and the ships in the dock.
And as she gazed she sniffed and sighed,
“The sea is deep and the world is wide!
How I long to sail!”
Said the tiny snail.”

~ Julia Donaldson, The Snail and the Whale

At the beginning of the year, I found myself complaining about our house perhaps a bit too much, finding faults in pretty much everything, including the ceiling. I know that when I complain about the house, I do not really complain about the house – but about a lack of time and breathing space, generally about being overwhelmed. It’s intriguing how our attitudes to our spaces often reflect the states of our souls, don’t they?

Early in January we drove to Devon to spend a weekend with family and while being there we headed towards the sea, to Dawlish Warren. Maybe even to remind ourselves what it is to experience vast open spaces and the freedom that they offer. Winter sea air is wonderful for taking deep lung-stretching breaths and for carefree runs towards the sea. The runs are necessary if, just like a very curious three-year old, you want to find out where the beach sand is soft enough for your feet (or shoes) to sink in.

There are many attitudes that we can develop towards our personal spaces, we can project ourselves on to them, but the sea is too great and too majestic for us to do it and as a result it projects its greatness and dignity on us. That is why, having seen the sea, we come back to our homes with greater respect, awe and appreciation of ourselves and the whole humanity.

La Befana

Befana7-3 — Card by the charity: EMBRACE the Middle East

Happy Epiphany!

So today we celebrate the Three Wise Men visiting Jesus as a small child. Our little one has also had his own visitor: a very old lady with broken shoes and poor clothes who traveled in the night on her broomstick to leave some small and delicious presents. It turned out that I was the only mischievous child in our house as I was the only one who found onion and garlic in my stocking while my men were indulging in glorious Panettone (paneton in the Milanese language)!

The card with the Wise Men encourages us to remember the Middle East and the whole image evokes thoughts of humble respect and prudence. The three scholars bowed in respect before something much bigger than themselves, God Almighty. Then, they received a gift of prudence to go back to their own countries choosing a path that would make them avoid Herod. This is a story about guidance, respect and prudence. May we all embrace them this year.

Happy Epiphany!

This year I will be posting towards the end of each month. With my very best wishes in this New Year. x Alicja

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: