I know I'm counterproductive if I intend to have more faith on the spiritual level and then with the other part of my mind go out on a frenzy to find new clients to be ready for me - after my self-imposed leave to help this family start up. I have to act intelligently, of course, in all business and economy matters. I'm not going out to buy a Mercedes right now. Fine. But aside from that: I'll really try and make every intention in my mind go in the same direction. I know - deep deep down - that it is wrong, to try to affirm faith in something as personal and powerful as a childbirth and that it will go well and then at the same time fret about money. Either you affirm that overall all things will turn out well, and that you believe in this, no matter the bumps. Or you don't. Faith is indivisible.
I'm not particularly anxious anymore, except in flashes, about how it's all going to go down, at the birth and 18 years+ afterwards. Not exactly sure why, but perhaps it's because we've been thinking about this 24/7 for many months now, so I at least - but Char, too, I think - have become kind of used to this state of worry and expectation. So even though we still worry, and still expect, the feelings don't seem nearly as overwhelming now as they were some months ago. It's become kind of every-day, this new existence of ours, as parents. And that, I suppose, is exactly as it should be.
Your doubts must never be allowed to just grip you and tell you things are like this or that feeling, especially the future. The future is not set, but you have to force yourself to imagine it in a very particular way, finding an argument why it will be in a certain way, and making that feel plausible. Then you break it up - the doubt. Because doubt seems to be defined by its ability to freeze us in time. It can tell us that this moment is all that exists and that your efforts to change the future can't really matter for that reason. Well, it is a lie. And if somebody is lying you in the face, your natural instinct should be to tell them flat out why they are wrong.
There should only be room for so much in my mind right now, like my son. And so, I have to force myself to have faith, in a number of things, even if I'm not very good at it. But maybe that's the whole point of this particular experience, in a number of ways.
The very ACT of slowing down, and timing out, will leave us with that place in the movie where the brilliant businessman or the overworked janitor or famous fashionista or dedicated housewife takes a walk along the beach or in the woods and ... is present. .... In their own life. ... Dares to think about it all ... good and bad. Feels it. And maybe ... make some changes when coming home. Going up on the hill and scout the horizon of life.
There are still, and obviously should still be, outside goals: Things I want to achieve. They are fuzzy now. So I have to sail on to see them clearer.
So many other parents made it before us. That's worth remembering.
I had to realize that I could never really transcend all my problems either, but only work towards better and better integration - eventually transcending a few problems at a time over a long time. Life is all about Integration of your fears, anxieties etc. Learning to keep them inside you, manage them, slowly reduce their importance, devise strategies to channel their constituent emotions differently.
When you want to keep down stress, keep the solutions simple. The definition of stress is doing too many things.
I want to create a larger Kingdom of the Soul.
I can't change clothes. I can't get into shape. I can't just magically impose order on the thousand uncertainties in my life right now (again). But I can sit down and think. Slowly. Precisely. With care. Much care. And regain some sense of being 'up there'. I don't know how else to describe it. So here it is then, the start: A poem ...
So the list is long - of things we can still do to get ready to make the birth as little as an ordeal as possible, to the degree we believe it is possible to control pain and anxiety of an even that is as natural and old and beyond human control as anything. To get ready for that, and for the many strange and extraordinary things we're going to have to deal with as newly minted not-quite-so-spry parents. But sometimes ... like tonight I find myself thinking that it's okay to have a little faith and not be obsessive about all that, and just relax and watch a movie.
Maybe that's what I need every time I feel I'm stuck and getting nowhere and having no clue. Maybe I just need to say: 'I commit.'
I should tell stories first and foremost because I have to. Like I should breathe because I have to.