Monday, October 27, 2014
If not now, then when?
I'm nearly at the end of my August Moon responses. It's been a bizarre old experience, to be honest. I started writing the prompts over three months ago after they came to me in an inspired burst.
I thought I was writing about a particular dilemma, namely what to do with my life if I didn't return to my day job. It seemed to me a conundrum that many of my friends were facing: if I didn't have to default to what I've always done, what would I choose to do?
That question has pretty much resolved itself for me now and I hope to be able to write more fully on this soon.
But as I've been responding to my own prompts, I realise that it wasn't the question I really wanted to explore. What I really wanted to write about was boundaries.
And today I am asked to think about trust.
Ironically, this was the word that chose me for 2014.
And, perhaps even more ironically, it's something that I am being forced to consider in almost every aspect of my life right now.
My bambino went down to bed at 6.30pm yesterday. He then woke crying at 8.30pm, 10.30pm, 12am, 2am, 5am, then decided it was time to get up at 6am. Each time, I went and picked him up and cuddled him, rocked and patted him back to sleep. Sometimes I breastfed him. Sometimes he went straight down. Sometimes he needed a lot of help.
He used to be an excellent sleeper and a confident self-settler. But as he's hit a recent developmental milestone, it seems that he needs more reassurance and assistance.
I'm not sure when this two-hourly waking business started, to be honest. It's not like someone flicked a switch. It more crept up on us, like sunrise. An extra feed here, a longer cuddle there. Always excuses: it's his teeth; it's his tummy; he's too hot; he's too cold. A month later and I'm facing the reality that it is not getting any better, sorting itself out as it did for my daughter.
And the truth is: I can't survive on a tiny bit of broken sleep for weeks on end. I am about to crack.
So today, I have been forced to lean in and trust that my little man can do this and so can I. He's super attached to me and I am comforting him as best I can.
It's bloody hard but the alternative is just not sustainable.
I am hanging on in there by the skin of my teeth and praying it will get easier and also that I don't buckle and undo all our efforts so far.
On the brighter side, I have the feeling that the rewards of staying the course are going to be even greater than a decent night's sleep (which, at the moment, seems like the best thing ever). The parallels between this process and some of the other boundary setting work I want to do are too compelling.
It's like the Universe is demanding: are you going to walk your talk?
Because if not now, then when? And if not here, then where?
This post is my response to Day Fourteen of the August Moon reflective writing challenge. You are most welcome to share your own response to the prompt in the comments below.
Otherwise, the next opportunity to connect is Reverb in December. Join us?