Apparently Thomas Jefferson and George Washington experienced a blizzard of similar magnitude to the one we did in Washinton D.C. area last weekend but certainly, it was the biggest recorded dump of snow since official records began. Having come from a place where even a thin layer of ice on a puddle mid-winter was cause for great excitement, I find having the landscape transformed to pure white quite magnificent.
What I have not found quite as magnificent is having my life interrupted. My four children have been home from school since Thursday and, alas, with another snow storm due to arrive tomorrow, they may well be off all week. Ukurumba…there goes those plans of mine!
Yet as I sit here with my homemade latte beside my keyboard (the esspresso machine I gave Andrew for Christmas has been worth its weight in gold these last few housebound days!), I can’t help but think about how this storm, with all the interruptions and inconveniences it has brought with it, is a valuable analogy for the bigger storms that come our way through life.
The problem isn’t that things happen in life that completely throw us off our plans, it is that we expect anything otherwise. Many years ago, midway through the second trimester of pregnancy with my first child, I discovered that it had died. It was New Year’s Eve 1996. To me that baby was already born. I was already a proud mother. But then, in the span of several minutes, without any signs to warn me, I discovered I wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t going to have that cherished baby. That this new little life inside me was no more. And along with the end of that life, so too ended the plans I had for the year to come — to leave my job, to become a mother. After two more miscarriages I did have a successful pregnancy and on February 1998 I gave birth to a beautiful and healthy 9 pound boy. Lachlan (pictured above enjoying the snow yesterday) will be 12 this Saturday.
What I learnt from that first miscarriage (a lesson reinforced with other four miscarriages that I had on my way to having four children) was that we are never in control of our plans. Life is too big, too complex, too fragile, too unpredictable and far too uncontrollable to ever expect that we can have things all unfold the way we would like them to. Life just doesn’t work like that. As the saying goes, “Life is what happens while you are making other plans.”
Yes, for me in the realm of children, it was a happy ending with four healthy children. But for some it is not a happy ending. Well at least not the happy ending they would have ideally wanted. For some women, they never get to have the children they crave for. For my brother Frank, who was paralyzed from the waist down two years ago next month, he may never feel the ground beneath his feet again. For those who have lost people they love, had careers derailed, felt the sting of betrayal, suffered from addiction or made a mistake that could never be unmade, the reality they face may never be what they would have ideally wanted it to be.
It is when life does not unfold as we would want that we face the profound choice of how we will respond to the reality around us. Just as I could curse the snow that keeps my kids home from school today, so too we can curse the gods that brought illness and disappointment, suffering and sorrow, hardship and tragedy, into our lives. Or we can open our arms to the experience, we can look for the meaning, receive the lesson and accept the challenge to grow in our capacity for life that they bring.
The English poet Samual Johnson wrote, “Men are wise in proportion not to their experience but to their capacity for experience.” Who knows why bad things happen to good people, why some people seem to be faced with so much more suffering and misfortune than others, why opportunity and prosperity seem to fall into the laps of some yet elude the diligent efforts of others. I certainly don’t. What I do know though is that each of us are here to experience life to its fullest, to come to know our capacity for all of life — its joy and its rawness, its love and its loss — and, in doing so, to touch the life of others around us by the courage in which we live our own.
So today I will celebrate another day at home with my noisy, rowdy and not very tidy children. I am so blessed to have them. And while I’ve never been enamored with the idea of homeschooling, today I will give it a whirl… at least for an hour… or maybe 20 minutes. Who knows, I might even learn something from the experience.
And wherever this finds you right now, whatever interruptions threaten to disrupt the normal (if there is a “normal”) flow of your life, I encourage you to invite them in with grace, with self-trust and with a spirit of curiosity for the gifts they hold. It is those interruptions – unwanted, inconvenient and uncomfortable as they may be – that ultimately expand your capacity for life and enrich your experience of life the most.
Question: When was the last time you accepted life’s interruptions and turned what could be a negative experience into a positive gift? Please share your thoughts.
You have the right attitude. Making the most of it is what the kids see you do and adopt the same healthy habit. It is easy to be sad, beconing bitter but it takes effort to make the most of things that you are dealth in life. I figure I am way way more blessed than I deserve.
Thanks Andrew. I think that practicing gratitude shifts our outlook on everything. It's comparing our lot with others and dwelling on what we don't have that makes us unhappy or bitter. It's focusing on what we do, that allows us to feel joy, peace and gratitude.
I sat down to read your column tonight after one of those evenings where Life shows up and reminds you to grow. Leaking toilets (after 5 visits from a plumber, maybe I should try one that can do the job), two jobs, conference calls when I should be giving my son a bath, delayed bath time, and what I anticipate to be a rough wake up tomorrow morning, I needed to read your column. My son pipes up while I'm bailing water out of the leaking toilet, 'Mom, I'll brush my teeth and do my mouthwash all on my own to help you out cuz your job is hard.' Oh, he made me cry. The innocence of that sweet little boy brought me to my knees. In tears because I'd had enough, and because he brings me so very, very much.
Thank you for being part of my life, though we've never met. If you're ever in Atlanta the lattes are on me in my kitchen.
Thanks Audra. I've never been to Atlanta but if i ever do, i will come by for a latte!
Acknowledge yourself for all that you do to be the great mom that you are and manage the many things that you do. Take some time for yourself everyday Audra… you need that time to replenish the reserves, stay strong, centered and face the world with the resilience, hope and courage you need.
I sat down to read your column tonight after one of those evenings where Life shows up and reminds you to grow. Leaking toilets (after 5 visits from a plumber, maybe I should try one that can do the job), two jobs, conference calls when I should be giving my son a bath, delayed bath time, and what I anticipate to be a rough wake up tomorrow morning, I needed to read your column. My son pipes up while I'm bailing water out of the leaking toilet, 'Mom, I'll brush my teeth and do my mouthwash all on my own to help you out cuz your job is hard.' Oh, he made me cry. The innocence of that sweet little boy brought me to my knees. In tears because I'd had enough, and because he brings me so very, very much.
Thank you for being part of my life, though we've never met. If you're ever in Atlanta the lattes are on me in my kitchen.
Debbie, I have a brother who has suffered from schizophrenia now for ten years so want to acknowledge you for the valuable and difficult work that you do. You are right to throw out the old notions of how things "should be" and just roll with the punches. No point fighting with reality after all.
All the very best to you – at work and at home – as you continue to turn negatives into positives. After all, isn't that what life is all about!?
Debbie, I have a brother who has suffered from schizophrenia now for ten years so want to acknowledge you for the valuable and difficult work that you do. You are right to throw out the old notions of how things "should be" and just roll with the punches. No point fighting with reality after all.
All the very best to you – at work and at home – as you continue to turn negatives into positives. After all, isn't that what life is all about!?
My job is all about rolling with resistance and turning the negatve into positive. I work with mentally ill homeless people, and you never know what to expect. The best thing to do is to throw preconceived notions out the window and just be glad for what you have got. I find that works well in my personal life too.
Margie, this was such an inspiring post. Thank you!!!!!! Emma x
Hi Margie,
Thanks for sharing your life in such an authentic voice. I can appreciate the noise and need for respite, as I had three kids close in age. Best teachers for learning flexibility! Hope today's weather doesn't overwhelm. School may last into July this year, for all the snow days to date. Think I'll have a latte, too.
Gretchen
Hi Margie…just finished your book "Find your courage!" this morning – finally…I am a slow reader. Brought me to your website & blog. I am a stay at home mom of 2 (7 & 8 year olds) living in Surrey BC, Canada, an artist which includes painting, photography, and jewelry making. I felt as though you wrote this book directly to me!! I felt like you knew me…like you were my personal life coach. I am going to re-read your book, likely for the rest of my life. Like a manual, a reminder to live authentically and to take action in the presence of fear (that is a BIG one)!!! I can not thank you enough for this wonderful book, for your incrediable wisdom, for your words that have prompted action in my life, one tiny step at a time! Thank you, truly, you have made such an impact on my life.
Julie 🙂
"I encourage you to invite them in with grace, with self-trust and with a spirit of curiosity for the gifts they hold." My favorite part! THAT is courage! Thank you for re-posting this, Margie, and I hope you and your family had a lovely Thanksgiving filled with noisy, not-so-tidy kids and warmth! xo