This morning, as I was driving my 7 and 10 year old children to school with my husband beside me in the car, the children started talking about how excited they were that it was Friday, "early release day" for their schools and a chance for some fun time in the weekend. I found myself reminding them that today was September 11th- and while it may be exciting to have the weekend ahead of them, they also needed to be aware of what that meant and that others at school may be dealing with feelings about that too.
"What are you talking about, mommy?", my daughter said- and awareness of her innocence came back to my attention. Her older brother knew a bit more: "It's when the planes hit the towers, just for terror."
As we moved through the conversation carefully, trying to find the right words to adequately capture what happened that day and what it did and did not mean, my heart seized up in anguish. Hearing my children's confusion as they tried to conceptualize how people could think those acts of terror were 'the right choices' and how they were meant to feel safe and courageous in their own little world was nauseating. These are truths I wish I did not have to teach them.
I found myself having to really lean into my breathing, using self-regulation skills to fight the anxious temptation to mentally dive into the sadness and weight of these memories, only made worse by the awareness that there is currently so much suffering, hate, division and manipulation in the world. Looking for balance and hope, my mind raced through different thoughts, attempting to combat each negative with a countering positive.
Graciously, the thickness of the angst began to thin out as I continued this process, bit by bit, eventually resting back into the head-space I have found myself in most frequently lately: mostly-optimistic yet resigned to the fact that we are, as a world, far from 'healthy' right now. This mental state is one I would describe as being dutifully prepared to keep pushing, believing, encouraging, loving- despite the sadness, ignorance and hatred that sometimes seems to be everywhere.
In therapy, I often use the phrase, "tell yourself the rest of the story"- and I'm reminding myself of that this morning, too. If our lives (both individually as well as universally, as a human species with a shared history) were written down in a book, are you giving the same attention to each page- or wearing down pages from painful chapters from repeatedly focusing on those portions the most? What passages in life's story are you highlighting, underlining, circling, or focusing on? The parts that tell of despair, terror, violence and loss, debt and weakness, or failures?
Is that really all that is there? Of course not. There are passages of hope, promise, love and kindness, healing, recovery, strength and determination- and those passages are just as real, just as impactful as all of the darkness. It is in this process that we are lifted up, bolstered, just enough to at least breathe a bit easier, think more clearly and become empowered to keep working for GOOD.
I encourage you- just as I have been encouraging myself, today- to make that choice.. to intentionally and deliberately tell yourself the rest of the story- and maybe even use today to add some more pages of 'good' to yours.
Comments