When we feel terrible, we usually consume. We eat, we shop, we watch shows etc. But consuming doesn’t make us feel better in the long-run. Creation does. Learn how to create and contribute to feel better during Coronavirus.
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Failure is only failure when we think of it as the end. When failure become the middle of our story–it’s just a plot twist that can make our story richer.
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Helping someone else often feels like it will require a sacrifice of time and energy. But this math is wrong. Often the payoff for serving in time and energy is much larger than our investment.
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Our brain lies to us when it tells us something is impossible. It doesn’t mean to–it really does feel impossible when you think about it from where you are now. When we look at the same thing after it’s accomplished, it doesn’t feel impossible at all. What if we could harness the confidence of the end result at the beginning? I recently accomplished an impossible goal. Here’s what I learned…
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The popular idea of being “an empty nester” resonates with many moms. As children spread their wings to increasing independence, parents are often left behind. First, it may be as children board the bus to go to elementary school, but eventually they move on to college or independent living. The home that was once filled with life, busy demands, and sweet snuggles is suddenly quiet and empty. Our home can feel a bit like an empty nest as our children spend more time away from us. But I think the “empty nest” analogy might be inaccurate…
When we lived in Taiwan, my children and I watched a mother bird take care of a nest full of eggs in a tree outside our home. We enjoyed following the mother bird as she gathered sticks and dirt to make a nest, then lay her eggs and keep them warm. We watched with excitement as the little birds hatched and we loved seeing the mother bring them worms to eat. One day, however, we watched the little baby birds hopping along the branches outside the nest. Eventually, the baby birds all flew away. There was an empty nest.
After the baby birds left, there was no mother bird in the nest feeling sad and lonely because her babies were gone—or even happy and exuberant with her new freedom. When the baby birds flew away, so did the mother bird.
Maybe there is something we’ve missed about the nature of things in our popular portrayal of being an “empty nester.” The mother bird doesn’t stay in the empty nest. And, she doesn’t define herself by what has left the nest. She moves on to a wider world.
This is the first time in 12 years that all my children are in school—at least for a few hours a day. I confess, I’ve looked forward to this time. I’ve loved helping my kids grow and learn and progress by going to school, but I’ve also looked forward to personal time that I crave.
So, when I dropped my last child off for her first day of school I was a little surprised when I felt a little sad, a bit nostalgic, and even somewhat disoriented coming back to an empty house. My “nest” was empty—at least for a few hours. For years, my life has revolved around routines, snacks, naptimes, potty breaks and outings. Now, it is just me. There are no external demands determining what I must do.
I took a few minutes to feel the emptiness. I noticed the quiet. I missed the sweet little footsteps of my three-year-old running in for a hug. I missed the tug on my arm from my seven-year-old to come and see the house she’d designed for her doll. I missed the wise insights from my nine-year old, and the thoughtful offers to help from my twelve-year-old. I let myself feel a bit sad and nostalgic. For more help on how to process feelings see this article.
Then I savored the quiet—something that is often in short supply around our home. I reminded myself there was lots I DIDN’T miss either—the screaming, the tantrums, the whining, and the exhausting demands. I just sat to feel. But I didn’t sit there for too long. I’m taking my cue from mother birds.
Change and loss create emotion. Feeling the emotions allows us to grow and evolve. However, being defined by those emotions or by what has happened to us does not. In fact, when we choose to be defined by loss or change we can become stuck in negative emotion that keeps us from growing into the best version of ourselves.
The mother bird may sit on the nest for a short time after her babies have left, but she doesn’t stay there and become an “empty nester.” She flies away to continue living her purpose as a bird.
Similarly, I know that defining myself by what has left won’t help me or my children. During my time without my little ones it’s time for me to fly. It’s only for a few hours a day right now. I still love my nest. It’s not time to completely fly away. I have more nourishing and training to do in my nest. My little ones will still come back to the nest soon.
But I don’t want to be defined by the empty nest while they are gone. I want to be part of the huge amazing world.
Sometimes I will fly to fortify my nest—to do things to make my home a better place for all of us to live. This is an important contribution. There have been things for years I’ve wanted to do and always felt there wasn’t enough time; meal planning, preparing for family scripture study, home décor. I might exercise or hang pictures or do the laundry, but I will do it deliberately—because I choose to fortify my nest, not just because it is the default of what has to be done and I’m the only one left to do it.
Sometimes I will fly far beyond my nest and do things not related to my nest at all. I’m blogging today during my empty nest time. I’m embarking on a new project to build my business as a life coach. I’m becoming someone new and different. It’s exciting. And interestingly, I’ve found I am a better mom when my little ones come back to the nest because I feel rejuventated from creating and contributing in a new way.
As expat moms, we can be particularly side-swiped by the empty nest syndrome. We’ve left our home countries with family, support networks, careers, and other things that might tether us and give us purpose. Often our children become an even larger part of our identity abroad because we are less connected to the other things. When our children leave or grow and become more independent, it can be disorienting.
As expat moms, we can’t just rely on comfortable networks we grew up with. We must work a bit harder to create new purpose. We must fly and survey new options and terrain. We may have to try something new, reinvent our skill set or fail at a few things before finding what works. We have to be more creative, more resourceful and more flexible to explore and contribute in the wider world when our children are not in the nest.
The good news is that being untethered to what might have anchored us also means we can fly higher. Our minds aren’t limited the way they might be in a comfortable home environment. Stretching higher means we can see more opportunities and that means we may end up doing something even more amazing than we could have dreamed up without the challenge of searching.
To an expat mom, an empty nest does not mean she is an “empty nester.” It means she is again able to fully be a citizen of this amazing world.
There is really no such thing as an “empty nester” in nature. Once the nest is empty the mother doesn’t stay. She moves on to other things. Other nests. Other heights. This is what the analogy of the empty nest could mean. We don’t have to be defined by the old nest and what has left. Birds don’t. It’s time to take flight and define ourselves by something new.
Sometimes we lose perspective. At times our problems feel so big, we can’t see focus on anything else. Other times our problems or goals seem so hard we don’t know how to conquer them let alone where to start. It’s helpful to think of our minds like a photographer. We can learn how to change our focus and it can make all the difference.
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Last week my three-year-old daughter was in the hospital for several days. As you can probably imagine, she hated all the probing and poking by the nurses and she kept asking to go home. When the doctors finally identified the pathogen she had, my daughter started improving with an IV antibiotic treatment.
Though my daughter had started to feel better, the doctor stipulated that to return home my daughter had to show that she could continue to improve while on an oral antibiotic.
When we tried to give my daughter the large syringe full of creamy white antibiotic, she said, “I don’t want to take the antibiotic.” She turned her head and tried to run away. It was ironic because I knew what she REALLY wanted was to go home, but it first required doing something she didn’t want to do.
I told her, “It’s okay if you don’t want to take the medicine. You don’t have to want to take it, we just have to do it.” In the end, she finally took the antibiotics. She continued to get better and thankfully we were able to return home.
It seemed so obvious that my daughter NEEDED to do what she didn’t WANT to do, but ironically, I found myself struggling with the same thing this week. I’ve needed to redesign my website for some time—it’s important for growing my business, which is what I ultimately want. But I didn’t know exactly how to do the redesign and the more I got into it and tried to deal with all the technicalities it was overwhelming. I didn’t WANT to deal with it. My brain started thinking about how I could hire it out, or if I could just keep the website I had.
But I told my brain the same thing I told my daughter. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to WANT to, you just have to DO it.” I knew that I had to do something I didn’t want to do now, so that I could get what I really wanted in the long run. So, I stuck it out. I kept trying and failing. I kept researching, googling “how-to” videos, and experimenting. I redesigned my website and I’m delighted with it.
Why does the brain often reject doing something we don’t want to do now, even if we know that what we ultimately want requires it? Because these desires are directed by different parts of our brain. The prefrontal cortex, or the higher brain, is where all of our logic, planning, and strategy occurs. The prefrontal cortex looks out for our long-term interests. The limbic system, or the lower brain, is the more “primal” part of our brain that tries to keep us alive—it’s primary goals are pleasure, safety, and efficiency. It keeps us from touching fire, it keeps us eating so we don’t starve, it helps us reproduce, etc. It’s looking for what feels good in the moment—because what feels good in the moment will often keep us alive.
However, while the lower brain will keep us alive, it won’t make us happy. In order to be happy, we have to supervise the lower brain with the higher brain. Humans are the only animal that have a complex higher brain that can override the primitive part of the brain. The good news is, in humans the lower brain can’t do anything without the permission of the higher brain. That means it’s possible to not want to do something with our lower brain, and we can use our higher brain to choose to do it anyway in order to get what we really want.
It’s possible to not want to do something, and do it anyway. Learning this skill is the key to accomplishing your goals and becoming the person you really want to become.
This is the one year birthday of The Courage to Choose Happy blog! Birthdays, Anniversaries, and occasions can provide powerful opportunities to reflect with intention.
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As a busy mom, sometimes it’s hard to find time to get a break! When we do get a break–there are some powerful keys to doing something that will actually refresh you.
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The new year is the perfect time to look forward and decide who you want to be and what you want to have done in a year from now. There is a simple process that will help you accomplish the life you love this year.
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