The scene: my bedroom. The alarm beeps at 6:35 a.m. As I reach to turn it off, the usual thought pops predictably into my head: I should have gotten up earlier.
Sunlight filters through the shutters as I get out of bed, careful not to wake my husband, who is dozing next to me. I walk down the hall and peek into my daughter's room—she's still asleep, curled up and cozy, with her stuffed dog cradled in her arms. I turn right to look in on my son, who has tossed off his covers and is snoozing with his arms and legs splayed out, proving yet again that sleep can be an aerobic activity. I smile, then think, I don't spend enough time with my kids.
I pass through our living room, where dozens of photos covering bookshelves and end tables remind me that I'm blessed: I have a tight-knit family, wonderful friends, a job I love. Then I see my desk in the corner, piled high with unpaid bills, and I groan. I have to catch up on those.
I enter my kitchen to start the coffee, averting my eyes from the dinner dishes still piled in the sink. I should have loaded those into the dishwasher last night.
An hour later, after an invigorating jog through Central Park with my dog, I feel strong, energized and optimistic. As I step into the shower, I catch a glimpse of my rear view in the mirror and think, Still my biggest feature—some things never change!
Do you see a pattern here? By most people's standards, I have it all. I'm happily married; my kids are thriving; I love my job as editor of the amazing magazine you're holding in your hands. But even so, on this beautiful morning, I have a dull ache of dissatisfaction. Regardless of how fulfilled I am, I find ways to sabotage my own happiness, as if I don't deserve it all. Even in the face of overwhelming evidence that I'm lucky and loved, these glass-half-empty-isms fill me with feelings of inadequacy, dissatisfaction and guilt.
Did I say me? I meant we. All of us. All women.
We struggle every day to achieve a happy, balanced life, yet we allow the slightest misstep to throw us off-kilter. And it's usually the little things that knock us sideways—family squabbles, friend tensions, job uncertainty, body-image issues. I think of these as X, Y, Z problems because they're the ones that should come at the end of a list of happiness stealers. The life-and-death issues—illness, loss of a loved one, divorce, financial ruin, real trauma—we tend to face with courage, forbearance, even grace. Our challenge is to make sure our minor problems don't grow into full-scale issues because we've allowed them to persist and take over our lives. In fact, if you don't take care of an X, Y or Z problem, it can become a major life event. Think about it: Being bored in bed can be a precursor to seeking out other flirtations, even infidelity, and then you have a potential big problem, as in divorce.
Sunlight filters through the shutters as I get out of bed, careful not to wake my husband, who is dozing next to me. I walk down the hall and peek into my daughter's room—she's still asleep, curled up and cozy, with her stuffed dog cradled in her arms. I turn right to look in on my son, who has tossed off his covers and is snoozing with his arms and legs splayed out, proving yet again that sleep can be an aerobic activity. I smile, then think, I don't spend enough time with my kids.
I pass through our living room, where dozens of photos covering bookshelves and end tables remind me that I'm blessed: I have a tight-knit family, wonderful friends, a job I love. Then I see my desk in the corner, piled high with unpaid bills, and I groan. I have to catch up on those.
I enter my kitchen to start the coffee, averting my eyes from the dinner dishes still piled in the sink. I should have loaded those into the dishwasher last night.
An hour later, after an invigorating jog through Central Park with my dog, I feel strong, energized and optimistic. As I step into the shower, I catch a glimpse of my rear view in the mirror and think, Still my biggest feature—some things never change!
Do you see a pattern here? By most people's standards, I have it all. I'm happily married; my kids are thriving; I love my job as editor of the amazing magazine you're holding in your hands. But even so, on this beautiful morning, I have a dull ache of dissatisfaction. Regardless of how fulfilled I am, I find ways to sabotage my own happiness, as if I don't deserve it all. Even in the face of overwhelming evidence that I'm lucky and loved, these glass-half-empty-isms fill me with feelings of inadequacy, dissatisfaction and guilt.
Did I say me? I meant we. All of us. All women.
We struggle every day to achieve a happy, balanced life, yet we allow the slightest misstep to throw us off-kilter. And it's usually the little things that knock us sideways—family squabbles, friend tensions, job uncertainty, body-image issues. I think of these as X, Y, Z problems because they're the ones that should come at the end of a list of happiness stealers. The life-and-death issues—illness, loss of a loved one, divorce, financial ruin, real trauma—we tend to face with courage, forbearance, even grace. Our challenge is to make sure our minor problems don't grow into full-scale issues because we've allowed them to persist and take over our lives. In fact, if you don't take care of an X, Y or Z problem, it can become a major life event. Think about it: Being bored in bed can be a precursor to seeking out other flirtations, even infidelity, and then you have a potential big problem, as in divorce.
Now that you've read it, here's my beef. To do it, I'm going to put on my inner Queen Latifah for just a minute. In essence, it means I'm going to get finger-snappy, judgey, and just a teenie bit rigid.
Girl, you'd better get yourself together. Yes, you should have washed the dishes. You should spend more time with your kids. If you feel guilty about these things, I hate to tell you honey, but you should be.
I'm seeing this tendency of women, of people in general, to forgive all of their little lazy flaws because they think they should be satisfied with their life as it is. It's tricky to tell you this, but if you are not satisfied there is a reason. You're missing something. I would imagine that this lady, Ms. Danzieger or Catherine Birndorf, is a victim of having achieved everything she clawed her way up to but still failing to see the big picture, which, I'm sorry to say, usually is understood by people able to maintain a clean kitchen, have time for husbands and daughters, and are at peace with how they've chosen to spend their time. Case in point, the people of the dying generation who survived two world wars and a Great Depression. Where will we be when these examples of strength have completely disappeared? Who will we have as role models? Will they all be telling us to stop being so hard on ourselves so that we can float in a mediocre world, trying to feel okay with the decisions we made?
I'm not going to bother defending myself or pointing out where I fall into the same traps as the author, because obviously, OBVIOUSLY I do. We all do. There's a little bit of devil's advocacy going on here, also, because if I were to step outside and read what I'm writing, I'd probably have a response like, "Calm down, girl. We're all doing our best."
But what bothers me is that an M.D. is telling women that they should be easier on themselves, when what she should be saying is, take a step back. Evaluate what's happened in your life. Are you really "fulfilled" or are you telling yourself you should be? (To be fair I haven't read the whole book. It's quite possible she does it on the very next page.)
You know why people accept these big ticket items like death and loss with grace and courage? Because these are the few times that things are made very clear for us. Suddenly we know not that we are ignoring the dishes but WHY we are ignoring the dishes. Or not! We hold to the people we love and remember that we're strong. When we're running around trying to climb up some phantom ladder, obviously we're not so sure, because it's an illusion we're after. It's an illusion we're creating, whereas things like DIRTY DISHES are real! They're there, just waiting for us to go after them. They will reward us, also, with INSTANT GRATIFICATION. How often do we get that in life? Shouldn't we be jumping at every opportunity? Every floor to be swept? Every child to be hugged? Don't you think that's why some old people sit there looking so content with themselves, even if all they did in a day was polish their shoes and order their medicine over the phone? It's because they're on top of their needs. They don't wait until everything snowballs and makes them feel incapable of taking care of the little things.
In Skinny Legs and All, the character Abu was a man that had burnt everything to the ground. He was high; he fell low. You know where he found solace? Washing dishes. This zen like activity gave him peace and clarity. His life even started coming back together after he took a job doing nothing but washing dishes.
It's a stupid example. I don't mean to write an entire piece on the importance of dish washing, but you know what they say, your exterior reflects your interior. If my dishes, or my laundry, or even my butt... if any of these things are getting out of control, it is because my inside is out of control. So I'd better get in there and grab a sponge, some soap, and get to cleanin'*
*I just want to tell you again I'm speaking metaphorically here. You knew that. Okay.
