But I Want One For Myself

It came across my news feed today.

A lovely picture of an herb garden in a stone spiral. I'd seen pictures of these before and instructions on how to make them, but it had been awhile. And this was particularly lovely.  I paused and asked the poster if if was hers. If she'd made it.

"Not mine but I want one for myself," was her reply.

Not mine, but I want one for myself.

How many times have I said something like that?  And usually it's accompanied by something else that is unspoken.

"...but..."

And there's usually some lame reason why it can't be mine or why I can't do it. And, as I write this, I realize that "lame" is a perfect word to describe such inner reactions to seeing something we want and coming up with reasons we think we cannot have it. 

I looked it up and love these definitions. "Unable to walk normally because of an injury or illness affecting the leg or foot," and "(of an explanation or excuse) unconvincingly feeble."

The second definition took me by surprise and made me laugh out loud because of its truth. But I suppose the word has been used often enough for this that what once had been metaphor has now become part of the common usage.

 It was the metaphor, though, that pulled me this time.

Regardless of how common they've become, there is nothing normal about limiting beliefs and about operating out of them. We are built to see possibility, to imagine possibility, and to go toward possibility. All of the best that we are and that we have grows out of that. 

So there really is a disability in how we relate to ourselves and to the world around us when we operate from limiting beliefs rather than out of the belief that we can manifest possibility.

I don't want to ponder overlong the injuries and illnesses that have led to whatever limiting beliefs I hold. I simply acknowledge that they are there and want to be healed.

Perhaps a good practice to take up is simply to complete the sentence differently.

But I want one for myself, so I will do this and this and this to make it happen.

Or - it would be great to have that but there are other things I'd rather have right now like this and this and this, and this is what I'm going to do to I make it happen.

I think about this with my current living situation. Six years ago I moved out of my house during a divorce so that I could create a healthier living situation. I moved to a place that was about half the size. It was lovely, right on the river. And expensive. Three years ago I decided to move to an even smaller place. About half the size smaller again. I can the see river from a distance when there are no leaves on the trees. It is moderately priced and I made this choice because I wanted to free more resources for travel, which I have. I travel to amazing places a few times a year. I've actually been astonished at what I've been able to do with my resources.  

There also are times I look around and wonder what I was thinking to move into such a small place. There are so many limits renting and renting something so small. But there are also so many possibilities when you free your resources to invest in something other than housing and related expenses. Still, so often a woman's self-identity, sense of value and self-worth is tied up in her home. There's a deep identification and relationship between a woman's home and her understanding of her achievement. I think it's in our bones and in a level of awareness that is sometimes hard to make conscious.

And I have to be honest and say that it's been hard to make a nice home just for myself. It was easy to do when I had a husband and children and shared my life with others. I loved being a homemaker for a family, even as a woman who also worked outside the home. And now, between not being sure of what to do with the artifacts of that life and feeling that I don't know how to be in a life just with myself, I still haven't figured out what home means for me now.

I am tempted to move through this quickly and to tie it all up in a neat package. I certainly know the right thing to say about this kind of thing, but that does not feel authentic. 

So it's time to pause and to be with this. And to see where that journey takes me.

    

The Summer of Self-Love is a daily writing practice created to harness three months for thriving. The goal at the end is to host a dinner party. Sounds like an odd Hero's Journey, doesn't it? Most of them usually are.