Trust Your Footing
My better half tends to be more of a shaker than a hugger, which is a good thing, in the long run. Frustrating in the short term, however, depending on his delivery. But who am I to talk? I’m really good at saying all the wrong things at precisely the wrong time.
You never know when you’re hearing something profound until a few days later when you realize it’s become a subliminal haze among your thoughts. The other night he and I went for a walk and ended up having a few drinks at a bar nearby. He understands me in ways I don’t even know. He explained that I don’t trust my footing. When we go hiking together along the edge of a cliff, I become tentative, and he points it out then, too. He said his mom also didn’t trust her footing, and often slipped because of it. So basically it’s fatalistic. This mentality is present in all my cognitive reasoning.
I don’t have a strong opinion, and I allow it to change freely. I’m both stubborn and mutable at the same time. I run on pure emotion. If I change my mind about something, so be it. Deal with it. I’m not the same person I was yesterday. He also explained how true to my sign that is (Pisces). As astrological ruler of the feet, it doesn’t necessarily mean we come with solid ground. I’m a mutable water sign, and I don’t have a solid foundation across which I flow. A long time ago, I decided that holding beliefs eliminates freedom, and I’ve since chosen to disbelieve most things. Unfortunately, I don’t even trust my own judgment. My mother didn’t trust my judgment, either, but we won’t get into the whole nature vs. nurture thing just yet.
So far, what I’ve concluded from this hypothesis is that if you watch your step too much, you’ll miss out on the purpose of the experience. I spent 18+ years missing out, and I hate missing out. So I’m generally unhappy with being consumed with details. (This also applies to a bittersweet career pitfall I suffer from.) You just need to trust that your foot will land squarely on the next stair without watching your feet. Like in 8th grade typing class, the teacher told us to stop looking at our hands while we type. Don’t look at what you’re typing; look at what you’re going to type. Watch where you’re going, not where you are. Trust your ability to motor through details. Trust your footing.
“My mother didn’t trust my judgment, either, but we won’t get into the whole nature vs. nurture thing just yet.”
Those words surprised me and stung me. I DO trust your judgment and admire the woman you have become. I admire your talent, drive, wisdom and beauty. As often as possible, I try to convey my love and admiration to you.
I’m the first to acknowledge that being a parent didn’t qualify me as an all-knowing, wise or perfect person. I know I made mistakes as a mother for which I am sorry. But, I can say that I have doubted my own judgement more often than I ever did you or your brother’s. I just fumble through life like everyone else. I did want the best for my children and have tried to be as supportive as possible. Very little in life is black and white.
We are all products of our past experiences, environments, our upbringings and of course the “nature” part of the “nature/nuture” debate. I have old resentments from childhood as I know you and your brother do. It’s only been since my father’s death that I have come to know, undertstand and accept my mother. I now realize she was fumbling through life as a mother just like I did. She had her own issues to face as well. I can accept her more now because I understand her as a mother myself.
I’ve never had a problem knowing that both my children are smarter, more driven, more talented and motiviated than I am. I hope you will come to know how much I love you and how proud of you that I am. I love your independent spirit and may it soar!
Love,
Mom xoxoxo