Distractions

So I noticed a couple things about my behavior on my recent family trip to Cancun. As I was packing up to leave there, I saw my headphones on a chair. I realized I had not used them once in five days. This is unheard of for me, since music provides me with an instant escape. Headphones on, environment off. Of course, there are many times when I'm alone and music provides a soundtrack to whatever it is that I'm doing. However, if I'm not alone and I feel the aching need to have music take me away, it's undoubtedly a form of me checking out. It is never BECAUSE of my kids, yet I know this is something they've picked up on over the years. They don't like it, since they're smart. They are perceptive, and feel I'm not present. They are right; and there have been countless times over the years where despite my guilt at them being aware of this, I've done it anyway. If there was a tense or uncomfortable presence, or if I just didn't want to have to make annoying conversation with someone,  the headphones were my barrier. If the kids were around, this would in turn create more tension, since they were annoyed and I had gnawing guilt. It's a very human area where moms struggle to find and maintain balance; being individuals with needs while being available to our children. Those two entities don't always co exist. Being a mom often trumps any other factor, but not a hundred percent of the time. Spotting my untouched headphones made me realize I had no need/desire to escape from where I was during our trip. I cannot recall the last time EVER where there was a block of days in which I didn't need a measure of solitude. I was really pleased that I organically reached that point, especially without realizing it. Music just wasn't a factor for me that week.

Another thing I simply didn't need that week was a workout. Again, unheard of. I packed workout clothes as per usual, but didn't look at them. I workout 5/6 days a week. I absolutely require it as part of my routine. It helps me feel good via endorphin release, makes me feel strong and in control, and give me that alone time I crave. I didn't need that in Mexico either. It's not that I wanted to go to the gym and didn't, it's that I didn't have that pull to escape and melt away in a pile of sweat. My kids are late sleepers, so I did some quiet sun salutations on my porch, overlooking the hotel "jungle",and that was apparently enough. Starting my day like that, even for just a few minutes, was apparently all I needed. It was true vacation mode. It always depressed me when we'd take a trip and everything would feel the same, just with a different backdrop. What's the point in going away if there's no shift in joy and relaxation? Just to tell your friends you're taking a trip and to snap a few pictures to post? At this stage in my life I don't want a trip on paper. The headphone and gym revelations made me think about all the ways we distract ourselves from our lives. Mundane things that are kosher, but that are undeniably forms of escapism. Shopping nonstop, constant unnecessary errands, poor quality reality tv, just to name a few. I know people who would have no structure to their day without making purchases and returns. Returns, returns, returns. I swear I think they shop with zero intention of keeping most of it. Target, the supermarket, going to the cleaners, all under the guise of productivity. I once asked a friend why she shops at several grocery stores instead of one, for the sake of convenience. Her answer was that without that, she'd have nothing to do. Her honesty was shocking in its sadness. I too would spend the days trying to fool myself into thinking I was being "productive", while spending each night lost in the Bravo network until the ambien kicked in. Once in awhile I'd write sad, crappy poetry in the notebooks I keep in my nightstand. I read them now and feel both embarrassment and pride.  They suck, and are indicative of my former mental state. One day I'll throw them out, despite being a huge believer in saving anything I write. Even a lousy thought is a glimpse into my mind, and I want my kids to know as much about me as possible, including the not great parts. I'm not yet ready to toss entire notebooks, but I feel so proud and happy that I don't feel that way anymore. I knew the writing was subpar, yet that's what I produced. I'd think, "aren't I a good writer? I guess not." I kept at it since it was a form of therapy. It made me feel less like a zombie than watching Ramona and Luanne tear each other limb from limb (I loooove Ramona. And her daughter, Avery).

It's clearly a direct result of healthy increases in inner peace, that I didn't need to seek outside sources to feel calm and present. I didn't need an escape or endorphins. This was so gratifying. I deserve to feel that way. My children deserve a mom who doesn't look to enter a portal into a dimension of solitude. I was happy when my phone ran out of battery, I had no choice but to ignore it. I love reading because it's such a present activity; you can't miss a word. You have to pay careful attention. Same with writing, cooking, DJing. I have cultivated healthy parts to my life that require my full attention. It's a great feeling to run towards your life and not away from it... I also noticed this: while I loved being away I also was very happy to enter my house when the trip was over. There is no worse feeling than not wanting to be home. It's unsettling and unnatural. Women spend so much time creating our homes, it's terrible to not fully enjoy that. It's good to go away, it's good to come back. You can never have enough inner contentment and spiritual connection to your surroundings. And there's no overweight charge for that😊💼🎒. My goal is to travel, to do more with less, to expose myself and my family to other cultures and places. All the while taking myself with me everywhere I go.

❤️🌍🙏🏻, Lady B