pocket sized self

January 15, 2010 at 5:55 pm 3 comments

Heading into the weekend…

My days are pretty much the same  (plus or minus a child, depending on the week): playing, dishes, sweeping, snack making, dog walking, emailing, blog posting, dispute settling, you get the idea. So when Monday comes around and people say Hi! How was your weekend? I always draw a blank. To tell the truth I usually don’t know if it is Friday or Tuesday. But today I happen to know it’s Friday, and I have the sense that we all might need a little fortifying of spirit. Something to carry us through the weekend.

When I look about for something to give you, the word barometer comes to mind. Mine is the river. I often have no idea what kind of day I’m having, how cold it is, or what I am currently feeling until I see the river. I can get topsy turvy, surrounded by children in their various phases of humanness, ringing phones, and thoughts of other people. So many of us don’t remember (or don’t get the chance) to brush our teeth, let alone check in with who we actually are. The river doesn’t let me forget. It acts like a sticky note, reminding me to re-meet myself and notice who I am and what I care about.

We all need this. We all are who we want to be already, but it is often tucked way inside where we never see it, or remember it. Sometimes we have stacked so much on top that our real self is like a faded memory. We have inauthentic interactions every day. We laugh at things we find less than funny, or even offensive. We wear clothes that someone else thinks is fashionable, even when they don’t feel right. We say things to our kids that we don’t agree with because we are in someone else’s house.

Well what if we carried a little barometer with us? A stone from Stinson Beach, a tiny bean from a summertime garden, a piece of an old shirt tied to a bra strap. We could find these little barometers of our true selves every time we are stepping into inauthenticity. Instead of laughing in agreement to something you don’t agree with, you could reach for your true self, hiding in your pocket in the form of a stone, and pull back to who you actually are. Instead of rehashing the break-up with your recent ex, you could find that tiny piece of grandma’s quilt tucked inside your shirt and remember that you are unbreakable, and that your heart is unveiling it’s most golden era yet.

If I’m going to take my own advice, I’m going to need to shrink that gentle river down a bit. Maybe some cottonwood fluff will do. That way I could remember to be my real self all the time, as I open the car door, as I pick up dog poop, as I look at fashion magazines, as I listen to someone else talk. I wonder what the real me will say when I don’t ignore her existence? I wonder what you will say when our real selves meet on the street?

Advertisements

Entry filed under: favorites, life lessons. Tags: , , .

thinking of you Haiti slippery moments

3 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Hilaree  |  January 16, 2010 at 6:27 am

    I’m so thrilled to meet you! What are you doing in New Hampshire? We love our Feeleez cards! Do you guys wanna come over and play with play-dough? We have hot cocoa….

    (if meeting on a street near me)

    Reply
    • 2. nataliechristensen  |  January 16, 2010 at 9:23 am

      sounds great Hilaree!

      Reply
  • 3. Ivy  |  January 16, 2010 at 8:45 am

    Natalie, I love what you post because it always makes me think and almost always resonates with me. A barometer would be perfect. I have an old rubbing stone somewhere that I used to rub when I needed clarity or to calm myself down. I put it on a shelf years ago, then packed it into a box when we moved. It must be around here somewhere and I just might have to start carrying it with me — because my real touch stone (Lake Michigan) is hundreds of miles away. Thank you.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 31 other followers


%d bloggers like this: