Counting Blessings, Battling Fear

I’ve been thinking that it’s fear that deprives us of our happiness. That’s it pretty much. Just thinking and watching.

For me, the source of my greatest happiness stomps, gallops, jumps and runs at my side 24/7 now. Not since I returned to work four weeks after his birth, have I spent every moment, every day fully in his company.

As it turns out, his constant presence, the tumble of wondrous moments and his unwavering acceptance of me all serve to choke off fear.

I probably stop, suspended in thought or emotion, a dozen times every hour. Watching him. Observing myself with him. Absorbing the physical, mental and emotional connections. We talk. We play. We cuddle in giggles, in silence.

The lessons I’m learning are profound.

Lesson one. I’m not a great communicator. I voice one in every hundred thoughts I have. The rest, I keep to myself. I’ll joke about my husband’s motor mouth, complain that I have little time alone to compose my thoughts. But in truth, I simply don’t talk much. Face to face, I find I have little to say.

Until now.

My son and I talk, share, laugh all day. The things I want to tell him, share with him, are limitless. And none of the usual barriers prevent me from doing so.

Which leads me to lesson two. The barriers of fear and worry. I have much to fear right now. I lost my job; and with it, the ability—financially—to care for myself and my child. It feels like I’ve lost my choices.

At any other time in my life, this loss would gut me. It would require forced concentration on my blessings; on thinking positively and moving forward with optimism and confidence. Today however, I have only to look up and into the eyes of my boy. Reflected there, I see a great, joyful Mom, blessed with a healthy family and genuine excitement for all of our possibilities. It is almost beyond my comprehension that at a time of such uncertainty, I feel weightless and burden-free.

In trying to understand the contradictions, I have come to realize how much time I have wasted “getting through” the rough spots—time when my attention was diverted from the relatively few things in life that truly matter to me.

In my “before”, I simply hefted the burden, focusing my energy on its resolution and sparing only enough to meet my other responsibilities. In my “after”, my energy and focus center on a three year old little boy and his Dad. I spare only a little for burdens and business. A complete reversal.

It’s that whole “enjoy the journey instead of rushing toward the destination” thing. For me, it is an “oh, I get it” moment.

And I didn’t think I had anything “to get”. I generally accept things I cannot change with ease. I tackle problems methodically and rarely experience a sense of hopelessness. Yet, I HAVE wasted precious time. And I feel like a fool for it.

If only I could take back every time I ever said “if I can only get through this, then I’ll be happy, then I’ll relax, etc.” What a waste.