Mind-Pong

I’ve wanted to write lately. But, I’ve stopped myself so many times.

I finally felt desperate enough to slap myself across my avoidance-face today. To see what my mind thinks it can shield me from.  

My mind is sly. It’s good at evading at all costs. But, what have I been slithering away from? What thoughts? What emotions?

It’s been like Pong* of the 70s. With each bounce it challenges me, “Are you there yet? I’ll be back.”

My mind-trickery helps me believe I’m immune to thoughts and feelings when I avoid. 

When I let the words come out I realize why I've stopped myself. The minute I let my fingers touch the keyboard this morning shame and fear dangle in front of me. They felt they needed to remind me I’ve dodged the virus-hardball, for now.

Shame judges me harshly for side-stepping loss. Loss of a job, health, a loved one, a home, an income. Hope, faith, sanity.

Fear wants to graciously help me control “Future”. To know what the unknowns are — - — - ----

-- --- -  every stinkin’ one.

I let my fingers type, my brain spin. I get there eventually. I let my shoulders drop, my breath slow. I’ve worked years to learn how to nab those two (shame and fear). They lurk under the surface and are quite good at sneaking inside my head. 

I don’t need them. I need calm. So, I slow down my thoughts and carefully walk those two beasties smoothly out the door again.

Sadness and compassion let themselves in. They quietly sit down beside me. I allow tears. When my stomach starts to hurt I open my eyes and begin to write again.

I remember the lesson I was reluctant to learn when I was a teacher in a disadvantaged community. I wanted to take most of my first graders home with me. I wanted to change what happened to them when they went home. I wanted to relieve them of the life they were dealt.

I was weary with worry. After continuous sleepless nights, tension and heartache I realized I had weakened myself for the one thing I could do. I could be present for them in the time I had them. 

It was a hard lesson. Is a hard lesson. One I have to keep reviewing. 

I had to be present for myself. Take care of me. If I wasn’t willing to show myself love I wouldn’t have the energy to be the super-hero it would take to fix each child and the world they were born into. Caring for myself helped me see I'm NOT a super-hero.

It would have been counterproductive to hand them fear and shame on a platter instead of love and compassion. 

I just turned 64 years old the other day. I aspire to be a perpetual student. I also want to be a perpetual writer. And....Truth be told?  I still want to be a super-hero, the child in me lives.

Thanks for reading.

*Pong is a table tennis–like video game, created by Atari, released in 1972.