March 15, 2012

G'morning, dear! We're having a little bit of a misty morning here. There are Mourning Doves on my patio. I should probably put out some bird seed. 


I thought about you and Peyton this past Saturday morning.  As you probably remember, Noah has always been crazy about the tractors, trucks, and forklifts we have on the yard, and has always wanted to ride on them with Barry. If Barry forgets to take him on a ride, he doesn't say anything --- to us. On the way home, he'll say to Kim or John, "Papa forgot to take me for a tractor ride." We move a lot of heavy equipment, so Noah has seen some pretty impressive machinery over the years. This past Saturday, as Barry got ready to mow with the tractor and mowing attachment, I said to Noah, "Papa's riding the tractor." And Noah, pausing his video game with clear reluctance replied, "What kind of tractor?" Even grandparents suffer the adverse affects of "growing up." ;-)


The blog. Well, let's just talk about the blog. No post on Friday. Patricia's most recent post noted that she wrote every Sunday whether or not she had anything to say. I may have to keep that in mind as I may have gotten stalled on the whole Boundaries topic. 


Turns out, it wasn't quite as easy to summarize as I had thought and/or I didn't remember, off the top of my head, quite as much as I would have expected. To address that issue, I started flipping through the cards again, and so many of them were striking a new chord with me that I decided I really just need to go for round two. 


But before that, here's what I had:


1) Either don't do it, or don't resent it. 


2) If you can't accept "no," you'll never hear a real "yes." 


3) If you can't say "no," you don't have a real "yes.' 


4) Being selfish isn't what you think it is.


5) If a person responds to your help by getting better, you are helping. If nothing changes, you are enabling. 


I did start over again, day before yesterday, and realized how that first card has started to work on me. "Problems arise when people act as if their "boulders" are daily loads, and refuse help, or as if their "daily loads" are boulders they shouldn't have to carry. The results of these two instances are either perpetual pain or irresponsibility." (Boundaries, Cloud and Townsend) 


The kids would offer to help at Second Sunday Supper --- setting up tables and chairs, or whatever I needed in the kitchen. Although I accepted their offers, and was relieved, there was something negative going on inside me, some sort of feeling that I hadn't performed as well as I should have, a dragging notion that if I had planned better, worked harder, I would have been able to do it without their help. Oddly enough, an opposite feeling also seems to be at work --- that Second Sunday Supper is for all of us and they should appreciate it and be obligated to participate in making it happen. They are two sides of a really dumb coin: The inability to just quite simply say, "I need help." 


I wouldn't call Second Sunday Supper a boulder, given all the truly heavy burdens that life can muster up, and it may be true that if I tried a little harder, thought a little smarter, I could pull it off on my own. Two things may be at work here, so it may be a good thing that I am simultaneously working my way through The Spirituality of Imperfection. 1) I am not (deep sigh) perfect, and it really shouldn't trouble me to let that sink in and embrace it. 2) There are a lot of last minute things to do, and short of serving up peanut butter jelly sandwiches, dinner for twenty calls for more than two hands. 


I am accepting help, happily, at Second Sunday Supper. Help. 


Sometimes, I just need help. A gift. 


Learning to receive is a whole 'nother bag, but we'll get to that. 


Big loves,
Vickie