Just Shake It

As this year is coming to a close, I have been reflecting quite a bit.  I am not sure I have ever been as grateful to put a year behind me.  When I think about 2014, I think of a year of suffering.  But, yesterday a dear friend who has had a very similar year texted me a quote that she had read somewhere: “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is a choice.”  I am still sitting with this, but there is definitely some truth in how I have observed grief and managed my own over the last year.  If I think of pain as a feeling, then I think I might agree, because what we feel is not a choice.  It just is, and there is not a right or wrong way to feel.  However, we can choose how to think and how to behave, and I suppose suffering is a choice to sit in our pain.  When you lose someone you feel a range of emotions, shock, sadness, anger, loneliness, and I don’t believe any of them are a choice.  So, when do the feelings wrapped up in pain become a choice to suffer?  For me, suffering comes when I enter into the “should talk.”  This doesn’t only apply to the loss of my mom and what I think I should be feeling or how I should be acting based on what I perceive from others, but also all the times that I allow the “should talk” to take over me.

I do not mean the “should talk” that is my conscience, my inner voice which is the essence of my morality and ethics. I need that voice.  However, I do not need the destructive “should talk” voices that creep in silencing my own; the voices that cause me to feel guilt and shame.  I woke up this morning with a lot of “should talk.”  My work appointment was cancelled, so I had a kid-free day before the holiday week.  I should see what gifts I actually have.  I should wrap some of those gifts and go to the store to tie up loose ends. I should go to the grocery store to get food for the upcoming week.  I should get the cleaning done so it doesn’t consume our weekend.  I should, I should, I should…Yuk.  So, I asked myself what I wanted to do.  I want to write about this “should talk.”  I want to make a big hot cup of coffee, play some Christmas music, and play on my computer for a while.  So, here I am … doing just that.  I think suffering is when I listen to the voices of the expectations of others in my head, when I ignore what I want to do and think of what others think I should do.  Again, this is not to say that I should ignore my conscience and become a morally corrupt, self-centered narcissist, but I also shouldn’t be a selfless martyr without any sense of what I actually want.  Too often, as a wife and mother, I have forgotten to think about what I want.  In fact, I am not sure I even know what I want.  I have become so wrapped up in the expectations of others that I  feel depleted, empty, and resentful of those around me.  I realize I have chosen suffering. I cannot help but wonder if I would let go of the expectations and the fear of how others might respond, would I suffer less?  The other night watching my son Connor in his second grade performance, I think I found the answer.

Two years ago, my older son Cameron had his second grade show.  I remember being in the auditorium watching him as Rudolph proudly and perfectly saying his lines; I remember looking over at my husband with Connor on his shoulders and wondering if Connor would be able to participate in his show when he was in second grade.  Ever since Connor’s autism diagnosis I have wondered what he would not be able to do that his big brother would be able to do.  That night two years ago Connor struggled to cope with the crowd and the noises during his brother’s performance.  I could not have imagined that he would be in his second grade show, and this week he was not only in the show, but I think he also kind of stole it (and I’m biased). Unlike most people, Connor doesn’t get caught up in the “should talk.”  He does not think too much before he acts about the perception of others when he is feeling. And, sometimes I wish he would have a bit more of that inner voice, but on that night when he was on that stage, he let loose. Connor felt the pure joy while he was singing and dancing in front of a huge crowd.  I would not say that he doesn’t care what others think of him, but he doesn’t always pick up on what they are feeling; he struggles to read their emotions. But being up on that stage was a gift. He saw people laughing and smiling, and he saw their joy.  He was not concerned if they were laughing with him or at him, and frankly on stage, it didn’t matter.  He was safe to do exactly what he wanted, and that meant uninhibited, booty shaking and Christmas singing.

I looked over at my husband during the show and I could see in his eyes and in his smile he was feeling everything that I was feeling; there was an intimate and mutual connection over our son.  But, when I looked over at Cameron I could see the “should talk” going on his head.  Should my brother be doing that? Should he be standing so close to the girl beside him? Should he jump, sway, and swing so wildly when the other kids aren’t?  What should I feel when he does that?   In that moment I saw a glimpse of Cameron silently suffering because he was so consumed by the expectations of others that he was losing sight of what I know he also felt, which was pride for his little brother.  I later talked to him about what I saw in his face, and I didn’t shame him about those feelings he was having.  But, rather I asked if he was worried that Connor was being laughed at?  He said, “yes,” and he admitted he felt a little embarrassed.  I wanted him to know it was okay to feel what he was feeling.  But, I also told him how he could think about it differently and how he might respond to those who were not laughing with us: “My brother was funny, wasn’t he?  He was a star on that stage.  Not everyone has the courage to do that.  I’m proud of him.”

As I move forward into a new year, I am sure I will still feel pain; it is inevitable. However, I will try everyday to choose not to suffer.    I hope I will be able to acknowledge my feelings, but then choose to think and act more like Connor does, without guilt, regret, or expectations from others.  I hope I can just listen to my voice and do what I want.  I want to listen to the voice that says, “Sing, dance, and shake it for the whole world to see.”

I think you can find Connor in the video clip without me having to say he is in the top right corner.  Merry Christmas!