Life is a Therapist

I keep a weekly chart in my Bullet Journal. And in the section for “Habits” I track my progress. For a couple of months I’ve had one of the boxes labeled “Write”.

“A few sentences”, that’s all the comfort-center of my brain asks from me.  It encourages, “Just a bit,” With a small pat on my back.

With frustration I look at the boxes, week after week, reminded. Reminded I’m limited, reminded I want, want, want more out of myself.

I’ve injured my arm (from overuse). I have to restrict how I use the arm then gauge my progress and adjust, for now, with the help of an occupational therapist.

When I write, click, press and slide on my computer to post for my blog, it takes hours of time. Write - revisit - revise - rethink ——-what and how I want to word something. Sometimes it’s trash and I start over.

Three days ago I decided to write before the sun was up. I sat upright, shoulders back and relaxed my arms. “Just get the ideas in print”, I encourage myself.  A small amount a day.

Just to be clear, I’m not convinced my writing block is just from lack of strength and a healing arm. I think it’s stuck-in-denial. I DO NOT want to be limited in what I do by amount of time, strength and quantity. I have the motivation and desire and want that to be the whole picture. 

I want things as they were. Before. A time in the past before my arm said, “Enough!” Before it went on strike. 

In her book, You Learn By Living, Eleanor Roosevelt said,

 “Life teaches you that you cannot attain real maturity until you are ready to accept this harsh knowledge, this limitation in yourself and make the difficult adjustment. Either you must learn to allow someone else to meet the need, without bitterness or envy, and accept it; or somehow you make yourself learn to meet it. If you refuse to accept the limitation in yourself, you will be unable to grow beyond this point.”

She adds, “…the deception fools only yourself.” I agree (with a smile), I am ultimately the bearer of consequences of my thoughts and actions. Seems so easy but can be so difficult.

I’m grateful I have many teachers who are positive models for me. 

Mom is one of them. I marvel at how she adjusts. How she eventually stares a limitation in its ugly face. 

She shows an ability to untie the rope from many of her strengths and freedoms she’s had to relinquish over the years. She alters her course, drifts and eventually finds another place to moor, ties up and begins again. This takes strength!

I don’t believe it’s really about the limitations. I think it’s about moving forward. The limitations are a pain in the ass. But, truly I’ve seen the strength they can create in a person. Our limitations aren’t who we are. We can learn and expand from them in different ways. It’s possible to regain our power to grow. Or as Eleanor Roosevelt says, “Attain real maturity”.

I’m not sure I want to be mature, but I agree the quicker the past is separated from now and I meet the needs I have, the faster I can do things the child in me wants and wants and wants.