I should be further along.
I've been on this spiritual quest for a long time, and still I screw up left and right.
Still, I am unhappy.
Still, I let things get to me.
Still, I don't have patience with my kids.
Still, I resist my life.
The teachings of Abraham say once you start to become more conscious, your stream begins moving really fast. And when you hit a boulder in a stream at 100 miles an hour, it hurts more than if you were just slugging along, low grade misery, hitting that same boulder at 25mph.
Discordant vibration starts to be intolerable.
I bought Riley a latch hook kit. I thought it would be good for helping her fine motor skills, and I thought she would enjoy it. I loved those as a kid. Two strings in, she freaked. Seth was able to do it better, and she got on a continuous loop of, "I'm stupid! I can't do it! I quit!"
Scooping up the whole kit off the kitchen table I marched it over to the garbage, threw it in, and yelled, "This is what I think of quitters!"
Seth burst into tears and ran out of the room.
Why do I ever try to do anything fun with her? So often, it backfires.
Why do I lose it, when I know she can't help it?
Why can't I go live on a mountain by myself someplace, where my actions won't hurt others?
Why do I feel like I'm stupid. I can't do it. I quit.
Up in my attic office, the orange leaves out my window are being pushed hard by the cold wind. It's raining and they cling for dear life. The branches are knocked back again and again by strong gusts.
Some of the trees are completely bare now.
I think of the ant parable. If an ant walked by a tree in winter, he, with his short lifespan would mistakenly think the tree was dead. He wouldn't see the big picture. He wouldn't know about the spring.
There is a bigger picture here as well. I can't see it right now, but I am willing to.
Over and over,
I am willing.