It’s hard. Try again.

Early in the day, I was filled with hopes and aspirations… I had coffee, inspiration, and motivation. I saw a day of rainbows and unicorns. I let the kids play as I prepared myself to make this time magical. We began. We made peanut butter by pureeing peanuts adding a hint of olive oil then added it to our homemade yogurt for a delicious breakfast. Next, I met them where they were at with their interests and we tied Minecraft to history learning. We read about Medieval monasteries and manors, then planned how they could build such a thing in game. We took this a step further and prepared a peasant meal of bread and soup using more traditional grains flavored with herbs and veggies. We added salted pork. 


Then lunchtime came, and my husband was in a more difficult mood. It’s to no fault of his own that I took on his energy. I felt the need to rescue the unicorns! My fragile state was being exposed and it became an effort to find joy in these mundane and isolated tasks. It wasn’t that we fought. We didn’t. It’s those subtleties you pick up on after nearly 15 years of marriage that you can’t ignore. It’s a tone, a glance, an agitation, a posture of arms and legs crossed; that without trying, you know your better half is off. And when half of your being isn’t balanced, you begin to tip. I was grasping for the fairy dust and endless opportunities I had felt just moments before. He returned to work down the hall, but I could feel the air had changed and a dark cloud had taken shape.

I washed dishes and cleaned up growing resentful of the lack of assistance. I began to focus on how often this is the case. You see, when the air becomes tainted with resentment, you become blind and narrowly focused. Suddenly, all of the beauty around you hides in the shadows. I became acutely aware of the lack of reprieve. The thought that I haven’t conversed face to face in intimate proximity with an adult outside of our home in over a month. The thought that I had already been struggling in a state of transition prior to this virus. The feeling of my needs slipping further and further down the priority list poisoned my thoughts.

By the afternoon, my unicorns were slaughtered and a storm was brewing with little hope of a rainbow.

I attempted to bottle these unwelcome feelings. I didn’t want to feel them. Not today. Not ever, honestly. I pushed them down, but with each challenge the day brought, my shield of resilience was cracking. I lost my temper. I yelled. I said things I would later want to take back. I wish I could say I’m above this form of an adult tantrum, but the reality is I’m human. As much as I want to be the perfect and ideal mother and wife, I’m not. I have flaws. Under stress, these imperfections surface and I’m both embarrassed and humbled by them. Why can’t I be a peaceful parent? Why can’t I yet regulate my feelings? I’m far too old to have not figured this out! Yet, I continue to have these expectations of my children and spouse?

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and defeated. The feelings of resentment had yet to subside, but the guilt was setting in. I wanted to retreat. I wanted to raise my white flag. But in quarantine, and social distancing, there’s no friend or grandparent in shining armor there to save you, and if the lord of your manor (your beloved spouse) is wounded, you realize you’re ill equipped and on your own.

You must take complete responsibility for your own well being. This thought can be overwhelming when in a state of despair. We are social creatures. The idea of conquering the wilderness alone seems absurd. But we’re being asked to step up. Growth hurts. Mistakes are made. It can be downright painful.

I awoke the next morning to this quote on our white board.

“I judge you unfortunate because you have never lived through misfortune. You have passed through life without an opponent – No one can ever know what you are capable of, not even you.”

-Seneca

Though I recognize for many of us, myself included, it’s not that we haven’t lived through misfortune or adversity before; but this is a different kind of beast altogether. We are yet to discover the weakness of our opponent and the tools to conquer him. We are being asked to become more of ourselves, and without the intimacy, more as a unit at large. Will we step up? Or will we have an adult tantrum and retreat? Maybe we ultimately do both. We are human after all. But hopefully, much less time dedicated to the latter. We’ll have to continue to dust ourselves off, experience growth, and change course. We must believe we are capable of more. No warrior becomes great until he steps upon the battle field. The mind is our most powerful tool. We have the ability to shape it as well as the reality around us. We can find out what we are capable of. It may surprise us. But we could not arrive here without hardship. Suffering shapes humanity.

Yesterday, my growth was painful, but rest has a way of giving us the gift of a reset. The sun still brought light out of the darkness this morning. I was blessed with another day to try again to conquer my opponent and so have you. We are fortunate to live through misfortune. We have these challenges to open our eyes to what we are truly capable of.

Stay home. Stay safe. It’s hard. Try again.

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