here let me help you out of that hole.

I know I'm not the only one who has frequent, "What the *swear word* am I doing...?"( ....add on with my life, with this situation, this painting, care-giving, being an adult...etc.) running through my head.    During these moments, it's so hard not to go down that rabbit hole of self doubt.  It's like your brain is just pushing you over the edge, and if you're quick enough to grab on to anything as you fall and pull yourself back up, you're doing exceptional!

This my friends is life.  So how do you stop from falling over?  This is one I've recently learned, although mastery is far off.   Instead of explaining this one, I want to do story time. Gather around kids. :) 

This morning I woke up to Steve asking me to rearrange him.  My alarm had already gone off and I turned it off and curled back up with Marlowe (our black lab) and had fallen back to sleep.  "Ugh," I sigh out loud.

"So what are you wanting?" I say as I slowly crawl out of bed.

As he types I make my bed and do some puppy cuddles, interrupted by the Tobii, "My butt hurts, so turn me."

As I'm about to turn him, my self righteousness kicks in. "You know babe, you haven't complained about your butt hurting until I told you the sore got larger, which I told you 4 days after it initially happened.  You know you have a strong mind, try to use it to help you and not hurt you."  

I turn him and get him arranged, and he mouths for me to hold on so he can type.  "You have no idea the pain I experience everyday.  Stop telling me it's in my head."  His face is expressionless as he stares at me, showing me his strong eyes without blinking for at least 45 seconds.

"What are we even doing?" I start saying....I stop myself. "I'm sorry.  You're right, i'll never understand and I'm sorry.  I guess I'm just trying to convince myself that I can actually do something more than giving you pills to help."

"You can," he replies. "By just sending me love, rearranging me, and you seeing me comfortable, instead of trying to do the brain talk with me. Now kiss me and let me sleep."

"I love you," I say kissing him and flashing him a little cheek as I walk out.  

All that is ringing through my head is "What am I doing? What are we doing?  With all of it..." Feeling a combination of guilt for being so insensitive, frustration for this pain he has and the little I can do for it, sadness for the obvious reason, and suddenly I start to fall down the hole.

I roll out the yoga mat, and take a deep breath.  The birds and chipmunks scurrying in and out for food as I try to climb out of the hole.  Thankfully the minute I stepped outside I was able to grab a hold of the walls edge.  As I am in downward facing dog, Marlowe, comes and licks me in the face.  In that moment, suddenly, I was able to pull myself up and the sun was shining on me like a light bulb and I had a thought, "I'm doing the best I can." 

All this time, I would sit and analyze my thoughts, words, actions, and try to find out why I would do things or think things.  Never actually giving myself the credit for what I AM doing.  Which is 'trying' every single day.  The very act of doing and trying is enough, you know?  After all, me deciding I want to be a good person, doesn't mean I just suddenly get it right all the time.  I am human.  

I'm doing the best I can.  It's okay to remind myself of this.  I always think if I'm too gentle on myself I will get complacent and stop growth.  Truth is, reminders of how you are doing well, are some of the most important things.  

I once had a boss who never told me I was doing things right, but thankfully his partner was able to say, "You know him he just can't give praise, you're learning so much keep up the great work."  Here I was being my boss, and forgetting to tell myself good job and to keep up the great work.  

So here I share with you, in hopes that I will help catch some of you before you fall down that hole; and remind you that you're doing a good job, and to keep up the great work. Because sometimes, doing the best you can, is enough.