Today I tried something totally new for me. I went to a meditation yoga class. Some of my dear friends have been involved with yoga for years. Never have I had the desire to participate. Too many other creative endeavors to pursue. DO, DO, DO would be one of the missions of my life's teachings from the time I was in my mother's womb.
What do you have to show for it?
Don't make a mistake.
The correct way to do it is my way.
If you do make a mistake don't admit to it.
Waste not want not.
Don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
If at first you don't succeed try again and if it is not perfectly done, try again
If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right
Use your time wisely
If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all
Always get the best deal
Always do your best
and on and on it goes.
My parents are American Heros. In typical fashion I admire them greatly. Also, in typical fashion I was going to raise my children differently. ( My daughter feels much the same way about me as I do my parents--just in different areas) I have never met a single person that wanted to raise their own children in the exact same way they were raised. Maybe close but there is always room for improvement. I was afraid of my father. Always afraid. I was ???? of my mother. I was proud she was a stay at home mom. I remember being so excited when my first grade teacher asked the class to raise their hands if their mother did not work. My hand flew to the air. The teacher asked for a voluteer to make the Valentine Box to hold all of our valentines. Again, my hand flew to the air. I was soooooooooooooo excited my mom was going to get to do this for the class. Oh My! Excitement was not the reaction of my mom. She was scared. She was afraid. She was stressed. She was unsure of herself. "Why had I volunteered her to do such a thing?" she asked.
I don't remember my response. My mother called the teacher to get further direction and together we made the most beautiful Valentine's box. I was so proud of the results. I never again remember volunteering my mother to make something for school again. I had learned another lesson. Everything one does needs to be done perfectly every single day. Don't do it if you can not do it perfectly. Don't view it as fun. View it as a job and jobs are to be done perfectly. Life is to be done perfectly. Well, guess what folks, life is never done perfectly because we are not perfect beings. I was so greatful to have gone to meditation yoga. Thank you, Mary, for inviting me. I felt peaceful throughout the day. We took my parents to dinner last night. My father is 87 years old. My mother is 84 years old. They have been married for 65 years. There lives pretty much follow the rules set down for many of their age group. It surely appears to me those rules create more sorrow than joy and peace. I admire there persistance while I abhore their stubornness. They seem to be stuck, living their lives with the same rules, no modifications, since they were born. I grieve for them. My mother's mind is failing horribly now. She is in a stage of life her mother went through at a much ealier age. She gets reality mixed up with other things in her mind. Her dreams appear to be real to her although she is furious with anyone telling her so. She emphatically says she has not dreamed since she was a little girl. She is miserable. She is obsessed with the thoughts that my father is having an affair. She talks and cries about it continuously. She will not leave my father alone about it. He is not able to convince her otherwise-none of us are- and he is not about to admit to something that is not true. There was not a doubt in my mind my yoga meditation put me in a frame of mind to handle their sadness with grace last evening. I did not do so perfectly though. My 60 year old body and mind fell to pieces on the drive home after dropping my parents off. My husband reminded me how important it is that I get my name on their bank account. Poor wonderful husband. He is right of course. At that point in the evening though some of those childhood things swelled up inside of me and the flood gates opened. Here I thought I was doing such a grand job of handling things and I was BUT once again I was reminded I am not perfect. Thankful for the tears that allow me to cleanse my body and thankful for the situation that lets me recognize I am not perfect and it is alright.