“Good Enough”

What does it mean to be good enough? Who defines it? Is it the houses, cars we drive, materialistic things we own, our career? The funny thing is that the majority of people tend to think if I have this house, or this outfit, or this promotion then I’ll be good enough, then I’ll be accepted.

But what if that isn’t the case? What if no one is really looking or judging you? What if you enjoyed the journey instead of trying to speed to finish something? I caught myself doing this earlier this week while reading a book. How many pages are left? Can I finish it tonight? I wonder if I read it a second time at a slower pace, without an efficient timeline that I would get more out of it.

The fact is-that I’m still learning is that the only person I need to be “good enough” for is myself. I can define what that looks like and was it means to be successful. I can define who I am, no one else has that power. The question is what do you want and how can you make it a reality?

I have so many stories where I’ve felt not good enough because I was trying to impress someone or I was being over critical of myself tearing myself to shreds. It takes daily reminders, mindfulness and time but I’ll get there. Until then I’ll enjoy the journey.

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Acceptance

I’ve been reading a lot personally and professionally. Both discuss the idea of change and that it’s inevitable, that’s life. Nothing will, last forever. One of the books I just finished was “When Things Fall Apart: Heartfelt advice for Difficult Times” by Pema Choldon. This was recommended to be by a colleague who is always very calm and composed. She didn’t get worked up when things changed and embraced it. Somehow I knew this was the direction I wanted to go.

I made a decision to take better care of myself. This included physical things such as taking a ton of vitamins, morning/night face cream, allowing myself some indulgences, not obsessing over a certain weight or pant size-what matters more is being healthy and feeling good. I used to think if I was a certain weight, pant size, had a certain purse, or suit then I’d be happy and accepted. The truth that I now see is that none of that matters. I’m meditating daily and working on staying in the present moment. This means not jumping ahead to the “what if’s” and not dwelling in the past. It’s a long journey but one I feel I need to make.

In my professional career I’ve always been ambitious and had a plan since I was in college on how I would get there. It took some work but starting to realize that the journey is the goal. There is no “you’ve made it, you’re finished”. Instead it’s about growing. This sounds like a simple thing to accept but for someone who wants to “better themselves” as if there is something wrong with them, this is quite a shift. It’s acceptance.

Acceptance in doing your best but also realizing that life has suffering. There is no escape from it. Maybe the best thing is to embrace instead of run from it. I’ve had to reframe my beliefs of accepting help as being weak. I’ve had coworkers and neighbors bring my family dinners and help with yard work in the 105 degree heat. My oldest having six weeks of great therapy and talking about cancer has been a blessing and I’m glad I accepted instead of pushing away help.

For the majority of my life I’ve fought against everything. Maybe stubborn, but I could never accept or be happy with myself. Chasing materialistic things hoping it would make me feel whole and happy. This shift through accepting me as me with all the ups and downs has brought great relief. I’ve felt shame, humiliation, anger, and self-hate over not being able to “fix” my speech impediment. It has caused great emotional pain for over 30 years. For the first time in being open and vulnerable I’m able to acknowledge that and accept myself. To be at peace with who I am.

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Two Weeks Notice

You usually hear about the final two week count down when expecting a baby, maybe the number of days before a vacation or starting a new another job. During those two weeks time seems to slow down. For me it’s two weeks till my next set of scans at MD Anderson. This is the big one and in the “cancer bubble world” they call it scanxiety. The anxiety leading up to scans. So much depends on these results and there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. Like waiting in line at Disneyland as a friend put it.

I’ve been off my infusions for a few months now on doctors orders and my immune system is being built back up. The big question is will the three tumors in my brain be stable again-like they were in June, or would they grow/shrink? What about the lungs, are they still gone/going away? So many questions and it’s easy to get overwhelmed and lost. It’s easy to lose hope and skip to the what if’s. Its easy to fall and fall again and fall again. But there is hope, no matter who far or how many times you’ve fallen there’s always hope. No matter what I believe it you look for it there is hope.

It’s been a difficult journey to say the least, but I try to ease the worry and anxiety. from trying to eat healthier, meditation, essential oils, vitamins, reiki healing, and traditional and non-traditional therapy. Whatever it takes. Does it really matter if this is “fixed” with the immunotherapy or my non-traditional methods? Really don’t think so. Maybe it’s a combination, again who cares. No matter how many podcasts I need to listen to or books I have to read it doesn’t matter. What does matter is being in the right frame of mind. Whatever comes will come and the next step will be taken at that time. Living in the what if’s fuels the anxiety as depression. It’s okay to acknowledge both but then look for the hope. Do what you need to do and keep going. For me no matter how many times I’m kicked down and beaten, I stubbornly get back up again. So why would this chapter with cancer be any different?

So there’s my two week notice and I’m going to keep going.

The Night Before the First Day of School: A Mom’s Story

Supplies dropped off, lunches made, first day clothes laid out, showers, and teeth brushed all checked. Tomorrow’s the big day for my kids, not me. Well maybe me too.

Will both boys (1st, 4th) know where to go? Know where to sit in the cafeteria? Will they have friends in their new classes? In a new environment with so many posters will they be able to concentrate at all? Will they be the nice or naughty list? Remember the movie Matilda where the boy had to eat the entire cake?

What will lunch be like? Will their lunches be cool enough to trade or am I a lame mom for going with the traditional sandwich instead of overpriced lunchables. (Once a week for emergencies only, I swear)!

What about the summer assignments, will those be mentioned on day 1? What mom really did make their kid read 1 hour a day and not watch video games? I was proud of the assignment homework completed and an attempt to keep up on summer reading. Will that be good enough? That’s the question will they be good enough as students and will I be good enough as a parent to the teacher? You know LEGO Minecraft is problem solving and creativity. 😉

A million worries flood into my brain just thinking about tomorrow and it’s mostly for them. I can only hope that each year is better than the last and they keep on growing.

Do my boys always have perfectly brushed hair and coordinated outfits? Nope. Sometimes it’s a struggle to get a shirt on, a victory even. I spray hairspray as they’re running out the door. You have to work with what you can and do your best. Do I get looks when I show up with a dozen store bought cupcakes, you bet-ya. If you were a good mother you would have baked them yourself and volunteered-why don’t you volunteer again, don’t you care? Part of it is that little gremlin that sits on the left shoulder nagging with negative self talk but part is society’s unrealistic expectations.

It’s not going to be a perfect year, and I’m sure I’m going to get several calls from the principal (please not on the first day like last year). Kids are going to have bad days just like their parents. The main message I need to consciously remind myself this year is to say that “they made a bad decision, that they’re not bad (or being bad)”. We’ll see how that one goes but I’m optimistic. The bookshelf of mindful books are sinking get in.

Does all this really matter or is it in our heads? Are we overthinking all this drama and making ourselves much more anxious than we really should be? How much of it is bad memories being transferred to out kids? Random thoughts.

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