Braving the Ice

Embracing my version of stillness.

My husband’s love of outdoor sporting is just one of the many parts of our marriage where we “celebrate” our differences. When I see him get ready to ice fish: excitedly layering up, whistling, loading his little sled with equipment and bait—it’s as if I’m watching a foreign film with no subtitles. But one thing is quite clear: he is in a state of pure joy. I admit there’s a small part of me that finds this utterly annoying. How does one vibrate with exuberance while doing the simplest—and most unexciting— thing? And doing that thing while just sitting in the bitter cold?!! This is a theme for us, playing out in a myriad of ways: He busies himself in the pursuit of his version of fun, exposed to the elements. I endlessly venture into a wilderness of all that swirls beneath, and within.

I’m including a couple of photos I took of the ice, while Walt was fishing. The big picture in winter is often so bleak, nothing but shades of gray. But when I put my phone up close to the ice, there is a literal world of still beauty I’d never even noticed. And this has become my metaphor in life.

I’m observing more closely how, for me, calm surroundings can feel unreal and arouse a certain restlessness. I’m skeptical of tranquil moments, because this mind holds on to the chaos of past and anticipates the turbulence to come. And this is compounded by a niggling jealousy for relaxed people who are at ease with their ease, maybe even a criticism for those who don’t feel the need to dig and analyze, LOL. But here is where I have a choice: to change course, and swim away from the muddy water of comparison, and self doubt. I’m harnessing all of this restless energy, drilling through the ice of stuck thought with curiosity, and diving into the deep, clear water below.

I, like all humans, crave peace and rest. But with life circumstances churning, a mind that swirls, and a heart that’s pulled by the wave every feeling, my serenity is calling me under. My version of “ice fishing” is taking my tea, going to a quiet place, and writing until my soul starts to speak. This is my comfort, my happy place, and where I find rest. It’s right here, in the act of sitting in this place, in this moment, breathing this breath. And in allowing all of my anxious voices to say their piece, I discover a contentment that doesn’t rely on fair weather. Occasionally, I even extract a truth that makes my heart leap with joy.

I’m still learning how to wind my way out of the loop of perfectionism and comparison. With help and grace from above, I’m more curious, accepting, compassionate—and loving!— toward parts of me that once seemed so dysfunctional or “negative.” And I know it’s changing me when I’m able to gasp at the beauty of a sunrise after a sleepless night.. When I can drive home after a long day of navigating dementia, feeling full and satisfied.. When love flows to others, and my worry and scrutiny are replaced by acceptance and affection.

How have you been weighed down by self judgment? Do you wish away the more challenging, less desirable parts of your self? And how do you find your relief in this world of constant comparison? I do love hearing what resonates, or even what does not!! Leave a comment:)