Putting together the content of Blind Mama is somewhat of a puzzle – I hate puzzles.
I have just spent the last fifteen minutes fishing for Emily’s puzzle pieces, and putting them in their place from under my desk.
I realise now, only half way through the process, I really ought to have been more methodical about the entire undertaking.
However as usual, I went at it with my usual slipslop style of she’ll be right mate.
Of course, I started out with good intentions of an organised life, but as we all know; planning is not my strong point.
Therefore here I am, three or so weeks later, scratching my head, and having to constantly back track, and see what I have finished, and what is still yet to be done.
As it stands, I have seven documents open on my computer, and periodically have to check my phone to see what I have published, and what I think I have published.
Reading through the many and varied posts I have written since having baby girl, I can see some rather disturbing, and all too common threads running through the tapestry of my work.
Holy shit I have been giving myself a hard time throughout the process of becoming a mum.
No way would I hold such high and stringent expectations of another, yet…
What kind of example am I setting for Emily?
One day when she reads my words, she is going to think it is normal to bully and bastardise oneself into submission.
This is the last thing I want for her, so I am going to need to make some big changes in how I treat myself. Because as Michael always says, example is better than advice.
Since reading my reflections, I can see oh so clearly, how I should have put my business aspirations down for the year, and simply concentrated on having baby girl, and nothing else.
Splitting my focus has done nothing for either the business, or my parenting, apart from make me feel guilty, fraudulent, and like a failure.
The more I think about it, the more I realise how driven I have been by my deep seeded embodiment of worthlessness.
However, the buck has to stop here.
I mean so what; the business is not where I hoped.
What am I trying to prove anyway?
Am I being loyal to an idea I have since outgrown, or am I merely riffling through my designer handback of excuses for a way to discard the project all together. But in favour of what?
A nine to five desk job? The next sparkly object or idea? The drama and disempowerment of poverty?
Alternatively, is it that I am drowning in the overwhelm of all the unfinished details.
I was scrolling through an entrepreneur group feed last week, when I came across a post touting the positive benefits gleamed from the I am enough affirmation.
For some reason it made me furious. Partly because they recommended writing that, shit all over the house where you could see it, so immediately I felt left out and excluded. Which translates in my head to I am not enough, and I do not matter.
The other reason was because I thought it was the dumbest thing I had ever heard. I mean everyone knows affirmations are a load of shit, right.
Why would I need that, I questioned as I closed the feed, and promptly put it out of my mind – Or so I thought.
However a couple of days later, I noticed my inner scratch scratch dialogue clawing at my being over something trivial I had perceived I had done wrong, when suddenly I stopped, breathed in, and deliberately said, I am enough!
Oh my goodness, everything shifted. As in, everything shifted.
Quite unexpectedly I was immediately transported to a more peaceful place where the air was clear, the atmosphere serene, and the incessant nag nag nagging finger wagging actually shut up.
This happened again and again over the following few days, which is what, led me to think more deeply about how not being enough impacts my life.
Is the reason I procrastinate over the business website, because I think I am not enough?
Is the reason I put up with a job I dislike because I think I am not enough?
Is the reason I withdraw from Emily, because I think I am not enough?
Sadly, when I break it down to the most fundamental nuts and bolts of things, the answer is yes yes and yes.
When it comes to the business, I am worried I do not have enough to offer.
When it comes to applying for a better job, I am worried I am not, nor will I ever be qualified, experienced, or educated enough.
When it comes to Emily, I am convinced her daddy can do a better job.
Oh, God it is layered with complexity, and the stories I tell myself menacingly wrap around me like deadly snakes threatening to strike at any moment. Therefore, I remain, hoping against hope, that if I am still enough, wish hard enough, and pretend none of this is happening, they will go away, and somehow I will be ok.
Let me just say, if you are considering this as a viable tactic for yourself, it is not working.
However, I still cannot shake the feeling that if I simply keep writing, I will be able to construct a financially viable and possibly prosperous path out of this situation.
Although what that looks like, I still have no idea.
However here I am, industriously scraping together everything I have written over the last year and a half regarding Little in a bid to create something bigger than I can presently see.
Who knows, it may have nothing to do with her, but whatever it is, I am quietly optimistic.
Either way, I am enjoying the process of placing my posts, piece by piece, into a chronological order. Even if I may not have the whole assigning categories thing quite right yet.
And who knows what a tag is, let alone how to post an image, rearrange a menu, number a page, or hook up my email.
The point is though; I am making this small thing happen. Moreover, who knows where it will lead.
As Julia Cameron says, action breeds self-esteem. And Lord knows I could use more of that. Not only for me, but for Little, my husband, and the possibilities ahead.