The Book Arrived!
My book arrived yesterday! On my doorstep. In a big box. I have dreamed about this moment for five years. What it would feel like to finally hold my thoughts and memories and reflections in my hands.
As I pushed the scissors into the top and pulled the flap open it felt like Christmas morning. Like I was opening my Easy Bake Oven. And when I moved the brown packing paper aside and saw my name, LynnMarie Rink, I felt a moment of accomplishment. Like I had really done something good! But within in an instant it was gone.
Gone, because as I thumbed through the pages the mean voices arrived, picking apart every little thing I could have done better or different or better. Sigh. Why do we do this to ourselves?
Why do we continue to beat ourselves up when we know better?
After we’ve had what we thought was plenty of therapy and chocolate and margaritas to understand every single one of our issues? When I voiced my concerns to my brother Lenny via text he wrote back, “Lynn – you wrote a F-ing book – be happy!” (He wrote it just like that by the way, because Lenny would never swear. I on the other hand…)
His words stung. Why is it so hard for me to be happy? Why is it so easy for me to not be good enough? And then I heard him. Loud and clear as if he were standing in my living room. “Eh, LynnMarie, yeah, well, good job BUT…. next time you should think about doing… and why didn’t you…. and you could have… and now do you think maybe something good might happen in your career? But of course, you know I love you right?”
My alcoholic father who’s been dead for almost seven years.
Our dysfunction and wounds run deep. They become part of our cells. Just like you can never forget how to ride a bike, you can never forget how easy it is to fall back into the dysfunction. If you don’t pay attention. The emptiness I felt after opening the box wasn’t about disappointment in the book. It was about not being okay at my core.
It was about not being enough.
But this morning, as I sip my Diet Pepsi in the stillness and watch the sky wake up, I am reminding myself that I am okay. That the fact that I’m breathing is enough. It’s about the fact that I am alive, sitting here even holding a book. Because five years ago all I could think about was finding ways to die.
I told my dad I love him and that I forgive him. I know he was only doing and saying and being who he knew to be. And yes, I know he loved me. And a part of me wishes he was here to celebrate with me.
So in the end, it is not really about this book at all. It’s about the story. It’s about the journey that is written about in the pages.
And it’s about the journey of discovery that continues.
What will you get delivered today that will provide an opportunity to act and be and think differently than you have in the past? What will you get that will show you that you are loved and enough and whole?
Stay present. This moment is all we have. Do not let your past or your future steel your joy from your “right now”.