On Containers

Raise your hand if you’re sorta in a fog and you don’t really know what the fuck is going on around here lately. I don’t mind a bit of chaos and like most of us, I think I’ve become accustomed to a mild to moderate amount of general insanity. But you guys, this is just a lot right now. 

Am I complaining? I’m not even sure. I don’t think I’m whining, but I am most definitely upset. 

A quick caveat here, so that I can sleep at night knowing I’ve acknowledged my privilege. Let me rephrase: my IMMENSE privilege. You may remember me writing about Gratitude Pushers before, and yeah, they still piss me off because it’s all too easy to flippantly say “Count Your Blessings,” using gratitude like a toddler using a bandaid. It’s a much deeper exercise to existentially understand the vast and varied ways that we are, indeed, OK. Truly transformative gratitude takes practice. That being said, recently, I’ve relaxed my previous stance on Gratitude Pushers. My gratitude is enhanced and enriched as a result of the global pandemic. 

So now that that’s out of the way, let me get back to my bitching. 

Where should I begin?

Oh fuck it. We all know what’s going on, I’m so not interested in repeating what’s already been repeated about 9 trillion times. The whole world is in big trouble. Got it. But here’s the issue for me right now: I just have a ton of feelings and the people in my house (who I now see way more than I’ve ever thought humanly possible) have a ton of feelings too. We also have a ton of time. Feelings and time. Too much of both. 

As the mom, I try to remember that my job is not to control and direct but rather to model and support. And I don’t lie to my kids. AND I’m one thousand percent committed to being the most authentic me I can be, here on earth. So honestly, that puts me in a super shitty situation, especially because life continues to get more and more nuanced and there aren’t a lot of black-and-white topics anymore. It’s become a world of Both/And, and that puts the mom in a Paradoxical Pickle.

Here’s an example of a Pre-Pandemic Paradoxical Pickle: grades. We have teenagers, so it’s a common topic in our lives. I don’t really care about my kids’ grades. I know. I KNOW! I’m nuts. But I don’t. I don’t think they matter. Yes, getting A’s is awesome. I got a bunch of A’s. But I also purposefully failed a class on principle alone and the world did not end and I’m almost more proud of that grade than all my A’s. Having a GPA above 4.0 is great and super impressive…but bonkers-high GPAs also worry me. The adult world isn’t such a simple equation of brains + hard work = A’s. So I tell my kids that I expect them to do their best, ask for help, stay well-rounded and all that other stuff will fall into place eventually. If they wanna get good grades, then get good grades. If not, that’s totally your call. One kid literally has D’s and F’s most of the year until the last week of the semester and then somehow gets B’s and C’s. One kid has a GPA higher than 4.0 and beams with pride for all her hard work. And one kid is merely trying to survive Middle School (aka I have no idea what her grades are because Last Child Syndrome). Anyway, yes, I understand so many awesome things come to kids with great grades, but in this house, I’ve declared that I’m actually more concerned about their mental health, and I let them know it, all the time. Remember the blank stares I get when it’s time to analyze our feelings?!

Ok, so my point is, right now, in our current, very complicated, non-black-and-white reality, how can I do all of the things? Be honest, but don’t scare the kids. Be attuned to your feelings, but don’t lose your shit. Be kind to yourself, but don’t become a 400 pound alcoholic. Be hopeful and optimistic, but don’t be a fool. Be a good role model, but don’t be too hard on yourself. Be a responsible global and local citizen, but don’t drown in the statistics and media. Be flexible and cut your kids some slack, but don’t allow a fucking-free-for-all. 

Raise your hand if you feel like you’re on this teeter-totter with me!

My current strategy? Containers. 

No. Do not put your kids in containers.

I’m using containers to help manage the overwhelming emotions and unending number of hours in the day. Maybe it’s basic for some people, but for me, it’s taken some time to get my sea legs here. I’ve had my days of over-functioning and meticulous planning. I’ve had my days where there was vodka in my orange juice. Yes. At breakfast. Yes. On a Wednesday. I’ve had my days of sobbing on the floor after another scary news conference. I’ve had my days where my soul was light and full of hope. I’ve had my days of omg everyone in this house sucks!! I’ve had my days of sunshine, healthy food and meditation. I’ve had my days where I’d rather dive into my work and not talk to anyone for 8 hours straight. I’ve had my days of pure bliss, having profound conversations with my precious family, over leisurely dinners of homemade pasta, followed by hours of teaching them poker, while listening to good music.  

But it’s just been too volatile. It’s not sustainable. I need a little bit of all of that in each day. So. How can I do that? Here come the containers! Every feeling is gonna get a moment. Nothing is going to be ignored. It just has to have a time limit, or container. 

It’s sort of like recalibrating after a life-altering event, good or bad, throws it all into a jumbled mess and you find that as you come out of the fog, you need to relearn how to do laundry and talk to people and grocery shop. The whole world looks new and is totally unfamiliar. I get it. I’ve been there. A few times actually. Simple fundamental skills like remembering to brush your teeth take a lot of effort and that is where you begin. 

I remember right after David was born, about 4 months before my dad died, before we even knew he was sick, dad said to me, “it’s gonna get rough with having a new baby in your life, promise me, that no matter what, every day, you’ll do two things: shower and get out of the house.” How brilliant is that?? And 18 years later, during lockdown, I’m militant about a few things like that. I haven’t had a bra-less day yet. I wear big fancy earrings, even if I’m not even going on Zoom. I step out of my house in some intentional way, even if it’s just onto my porch. And I still spritz perfume on my neck every morning.

Now. Please. I beg of you. Do not get the idea that I’m running a tight ship over here. There have been plenty of slammed doors, foot stomping, tears and “fuck-you’s.” We will single-handedly be keeping Xbox, Netflix, Snapchat and Twitch in business. But here are some containers I’ve made non-negotiable:

1. We eat meals together, three times a day at 8:00, 12:00 and 7:00, which serves as a daily structure and a good time to check-in with each other, also, it discourages buffet-style mayhem
2. We established a time container for work/homework and we all begin by 8:30 or so each morning, so that everyone can separate their work time and down time
3. I limit my exposure to social media and the news reports, and I set the timer on my phone when I sense an oh-my-god-the-sky-is-falling-freak-out moment coming, a good 10-minute hit of grief, death, racism, poverty, injustice, envy, loss, bankruptcy, evil and sheer terror, and then I need to move on
4. We do something together as a family at 8:00 pm on most days, but some days it’s probably best that everyone goes to their respective corners of the house with headphones, screens and candy of some kind
5. I really try not to have any wine until after I’ve done a workout, which is smart on a bunch of different levels
6. And as an extroverted extrovert, I make sure to reach out to someone who doesn’t live in this house, at least once a day

Maybe I’m just trying to control what I can control…

Maybe I’m just trying to re-parent myself while I teach my kids what I wish I had known… 

Maybe I’m just trying to build basic boundaries to protect myself from all of the unknown…

I don’t know. I think I’m just trying to be Gentle. I need some gentleness amongst all of this volatility.

Gentle is not really a word I’d use to describe myself. I’m a bit of a high energy bossy type. Super loud. Domineering even? ew. But hey, I’m working on recognizing the lesser awesome parts of me. I would like to learn how to gently hold all of these containers, inside of myself and allow them to all be. Pain, joy, memories, numbing, sadness, dancing, discipline, denial, worries, sinkholes, boredom, hope and rest. I wonder if the balance is found in the wholeness of the containers. Incorporating all of it, even if it’s ugly or sad. 

I’m gently contemplating my containers, reorganizing them a bit, making sure nothing completely takes over the day, not throwing anything out, but holding them and reevaluating their importance in my life. Especially in our new reality, maybe this is an opportunity, maybe even a freedom, to put some containers on the back shelf while resurrecting other containers that have been accidentally discarded.

I know, everyone is talking about the New Normal and for me that can feel stressful and terrifying and almost claustrophobic, because who am I to rescue an entire global economy and recreate a more compassionate and just society?

Sooooooo…..I’m gonna be over here, working on my containers, hoping and praying that lots of other people across the world are also hanging out, working on their containers and we’ll somehow, inadvertently, create a beautiful new hybrid version of normal life. And perhaps we won’t soon forget how it felt when the world was in big trouble and we simply worked on being Gentle.