Tuesday, November 16, 2010

the moments to see

Ages ago someone posted an anonymous comment on the blog that just said, "You sure do complain a lot." Most likely some random surfing bloodshot human, probably childless, but it bothered me a good bit. I conjured up responses in my head like, "the blog is, after all, about the challenges of being a mom..." In the end I just deleted the comment.

Today, though, I gave the blog address to a new friend, and just this minute I took a look at the blog and read the last few posts to see what she was going to see when she looked it up. And damn, I sure do complain a lot.

That's unfortunate.

Because there are certainly lovely moments. There are transcendent moments. Moments when the light comes in all soft around the edges. Another blog I won't post a link to writes about exactly those moments, and I will admit that when I took a look at it (having been directed there by its being voted one of the top 50 mom blogs on Babble) I almost laughed. Yes, it's sweet, and grateful, and celebratory of life. But it also seemed like a bunch of crap to me, somehow. Not that I believe the blogger doesn't experience things in that light, (though, does she, really?) but why do other people want to read about it? I don't know... I feel like the transcendent moments are more private. The crappy ones are the ones you need company for. They're the ones we need to share so we don't feel so alone in our frustrations. Hence this blog.

However. One might argue that it's good to fine tune the focus on those sweet moments, let our eyes go lazy and our gaze drift on the more challenging ones. That would be nice. An nice way to live, to pay more attention to the laughing than to the yelling. Okay, perhaps I could use more of that.

Yet it's the challenging moments that call us, that ask of us the most that we have, ask us to look hard at the things that need seeing. Isn't there some danger to putting them aside? We can't live our lives in soft focus. (And who knows, maybe she doesn't. Maybe she just wants to capture those moments in the blog. Yet I have to ask: why? Why do you want to share them? Is it a kind of art? Capturing the sweet? The dainty? What about the powerful? No judgement, though.) It is a spiritual journey, after all. It's also a nerve-fraying-screaming-and-petrified-cheese-under-the-carseat journey, which makes us forget it's a spiritual journey. Perhaps we could remember if we could hear ourselves think.

Or maybe the moments that try us are just more interesting. They show us our mettle.

Moving on.

My new camera is lovely. Here is its rendition of JOY, or what we did Saturday morning:


And here's LOVE:




This is Leo. He lives across the street. He and Frances love each other. Love. Like the real, true, affectionate, whole kind. He's moving away at christmas, and my heart will break for her. For now, though, here they are. Happy. 

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I agree that the hard moments are the ones we need to share just to get the support and also to realize that we are not the only ones experiencing what ever the hard moment may be for that minute, that day, that week, that month or that age.... More power to you for sharing the hard moments. I think they are not talked about very often for feelings of inadequacy, shame or whatever but they are part of what makes us human and sometimes we just need the support to keep us going as a parent, to make it through that minute, that day, that week, that month, that age....
Marianne

andrea said...

love your line "nerve-fraying-screaming-and petrified-cheese-under-the-seat-journey.



also the pictures of tumbles and love. love is lovely.

Anonymous said...

Yes. People need support to help let go the emotional baggage of the hard moments (not just in parenting!), to know you aren't the first person to suffer them (and survive), or to just know you are still you with the free will to say what you feel.

I think everyone should get a personal jesus spiritual church, like where people are always yelling out "thank you, Jesus" during the sermon. And you should get to stand up in front of this crowd and yell out your complaints and everyone responds almost in a chorus, "Uh huh", and "That's right," and "You tell 'em," and then at the end random people come up to you and give you a solid hand shake or a warm hug.

But the high points need to be celebrated, too. They may be personal, but why can't personal joy be celebrated publicly? Sometimes we want others to notice our efforts, to give us a pat on the back once in awhile. Sometimes this helps us give a pat on our own backs back (we give ourselves way too little kudos!) or just notice that life is also good and not just difficult.

For this, the personal jesus spiritual church is also handy. You could go there and start telling a story and people would shout out "amen" and at the end people would sing songs and you get to process out, again to have people shake your hand and say "You really are an amazing mom."

I wonder if maybe you can rent one of these personal jesus spiritual churches in Vegas. . .