Living Out of Both Pockets

Photo by Vasily Ledovsky on Unsplash

My alarm sounds on heavily with a song haven't heard before. As I try to decide if I like the song long enough to let it play, I reflexively reach over the still-slumbering little dog that stole my pillow to snooze the sound away.

I feel an instant twinge of regret as I do this because the simplicity of that action reminds me of all of my human failings. I planned better than to snooze. This was going to be the day that I turned over a new leaf.

 I would get up, have a cup of coffee, journal, take the dogs for a walk, and head to work in enough time to feel accomplished before anyone else even thought to look for me. All of that, and I think I liked the song (maybe) and should have let it play.

But I don't do that. Instead of the musical montage of my morning, I spend the next 9 minutes of my life trying to talk myself into motion with pain shooting through my shoulder. My regret doubles. 

When I finally try to move, I yelp. I am still hurt. The accident that wasn't an accident has left me still unable to do a lot of things that I used to enjoy doing pain-free. Two months of my life have passed, and what was a blip in time for the people who did this to me has consumed me. I am not the same person I used to be. 

My dog wriggles in annoyance at my vocalization, opens one eye, and raises his eyebrow at the new "stranger me" he lives with.

Neither my body nor my mind is Monday ready. My dog seems to be in a similar state as he audibly sighs, closes his eye, and snuggles a deeper divot into my pillow. No motivational quotes are running through my head. My eyes focus on the face of my alarm clock. A sudden shock smacks me on the forehead like an oar. 

Is it a migraine or the realization that I forgot to reset my alarm time before I went to bed last night? 

I don't care what kind of "slay the day" social media campaign you are on. You will never convince me that Mondays are easy, like Sunday mornings. They certainly don't have the exact expectations.

I am crunched. 

"I can do this," I say aloud, trying to convince myself as the cat looks at me disapprovingly. I don't take her feline expression to heart because that is usually how she looks at me when I talk to myself. 

Somehow, I manage to fight through my headache and do all the get-ready things. I get out the door without throwing up today, so that's a win. 

No, I am not pregnant--Just nauseous--a lot lately,

 I get in the car. I turn the key in the ignition. The engine starts without fail. I reach without hesitation. I throw the car in reverse without panicking and replaying my nightmares in my mind. This is good. 

I feel my nose drip and look down to see bright red droplets. 

I freeze for a second, then I text my immediate supervisor and run back into the house to do all the getting ready to leave stuff all over again. 

Fifteen minutes later, I am back in my car, but my bedroom floor is now littered with my shattered self-esteem of clothing options that didn't work today. It's all there: Nylon, rayon, and cotton--the fabric of our lives. How is this even my life? 

I press my head to the steering wheel and try to remind myself to breathe before I try again to get to work.

I picture the affirmation I wrote on the back of a napkin and taped it to the top of my laptop. 

What was it again?...

...My life is not run by my problems but led by my dreams.

That's funny, right? Because my dreams are so weird? I should pick a better affirmation. I like it; it gives me just enough of a positive vibe to stick with it for today.

It doesn't feel real, but then nothing does. 

So, I drive. 

Dear Miss Darling, 

How's that for a start to the work week? 

It got better. 

I got into trouble at work and spent the remainder of my morning hearing how I fall short of expectations. Still, I am a valuable part of the team who has brought many improvements and ideas to the program. I am a "very talented, knowledgeable professional and an asset, but apparently need to get my shit together. 

Okay, I added the last part, but that IS what it said between the lines. 

This blog is about the itsy-bitsy BITS: Big Improvements through Tiny Steps, 

It's not about not sweating the small stuff; it is about how the big and small stuff are the same. We get to choose what stuff we make big. Sometimes it is hard to choose, isn't it? 

In another post, I mentioned the two pockets. In my faith tradition, there is a story about a rabbi with two pockets. The story goes that Rabbi Simcha Bunem of Pershyscha carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one, he wrote: Bishvili nivra ha-olam—"for my sake the world was created." On the other, he wrote: V'anokhi afar v'efer"—"I am but dust and ashes." He would take out each slip of paper as necessary to remind himself of the shift in perspective he needed to make. 

Today has been a big pocket day for me. I had to lean in heavily to some big thoughts about the Universe and my place in it. 

Science has not dissuaded my faith in something more significant. In fact, it is quite the opposite. I have always been stunned by the parallels between the macrocosm of the cosmos and the microcosm of the human body. There's a profound connection that transcends mere coincidence. That dust and ash that we are made of, it's stardust. 

So often, we think about what we cannot see in the dark, but sometimes, all that glitters and glows around us is masking things of incredible beauty. 

I remember one profound moment when I was 17 and camping with my then-boyfriend's family. We walked in the dark and came to an open field outside the campsite. When I looked up, I felt lost in how the stars hung in the sky, not like stickers on the ceiling but as individual dancers, each at different depths. Some looked almost close enough to grasp, others so far away. 

Their glow resembled the fireflies that flitted about in the tall grass below, but their actual size, I knew, was bigger—much bigger in many cases than our Sun. My body fizzed with atoms buzzing like mini solar systems. The Universe was big and beautiful; I felt like I belonged; it was made for me.

There are days when I need a little more encouragement than others. Time to reach into my big pocket and remember that I am a small part of something big and magnificent. 

Today is the worst Monday that I have had in a while, and it isn't because of anything all that severe—I have a list of battle scars in this life, but honestly, my late start and my ill-timed nosebleed were not really that tragic. 

It may be time to reach into that other pocket, the itsy-bitsy one, and remember how small I am. My life only has the time to live some of the adventures I would like, and I don't get Bill Murray-Ground Hog day-level do-overs, so what? So I could rewrite my day with the parts that mean the most to me. 

I love the tragic-comedic value of the start of my day. I could ultimately see my Monday morning as the beginning of a romantic comedy. Can you picture it? I can. Hallmark channel or a Sandra Bullock-type actress ready to portray a world of bad luck and inept adulting of the would-be grown-up "girl next door"--older but not yet wiser. 

Still, there are some itsy-bitsy joys from my terrible, no good, horrible, very bad day. 

In no particular order...

I still got some things done at work. 

I messaged my partner to say I needed to talk through something, and he is really the best listener and gives the best hugs. 

Being in the same room with him and speaking freely felt so safe. 

 I took my dogs for a long walk.

I listened to an audiobook. 

I held a warm mug of coffee in my hands, and my cat chose to snuggle with me. 

I spent some time writing and made some progress on this post.

This post may mean something to someone. 

I went to bed early. 

That's the small stuff that I am talking about. The small stuff that matters. When life feels big and overwhelming, go smaller. Eat the cake, one bite at a time. Remember to taste it. Savor the parts you love the most and try to tolerate the rest. 

So survival, love, understanding, safety, and the devotion of dogs.

A coffee, a cat, and my creativity.

An unsuspecting audience that may soon include friends and some much-needed rest.

It could be an okay day, after all. 

The stars above and the atoms within us are both tiny and vast, both infinitely complex and infinitely simple. The same laws of physics that govern the motion of planets also govern the motion of a pencil falling off a desk. 

It's easy to get lost in the minutiae of our lives, to feel overwhelmed by the small stuff. But when we step back and look at the bigger picture, we can see that everything is connected, that everything is part of something greater. 

And so, I remind myself that even when I feel small and insignificant; I am still a part of something vast and beautiful. I remind myself that every moment, every action, every thought, is a tiny step towards something bigger. 

So, Miss Darling, whether you're having a big pocket day or a small pocket day, remember that you are a valuable part of this Universe. You are a tiny but essential piece of the puzzle, and your unique perspective and experiences are an integral part of the whole. Keep taking those itsy-bitsy BITS, and keep moving forward towards your dreams. 

Love,

Lailah 

Your friend and fellow traveler on this journey through life.

Reference:

Daily Dig for June 25 - Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa. https://www.plough.com/en/subscriptions/daily-dig/odd/june/daily-dig-for-june-25