Reframing the Demands of Motherhood
Instead of embracing LIFE, I make sure I don’t enjoy things “too much,” just in case I have to quickly prepare for losing everything and enveloping myself inside grief.
And god, it’s exhausting.
I understand (intellectually) that it’s not about “losing” so much as “cycling through” what naturally comes from LIFE: change, transition, then death. I understand (intellectually) that we cannot have life without these things.
I just didn’t realize how desperately afraid of death (and life) I’ve become.
And who would have thought that I’d travel 200 miles to realize all this? To realize, too, that I have everything I want and need within the life I’m already living.
In November, I traveled from Northwest Ohio to Grand Rapids, Michigan, to explore a potential next step for our family: a move out-of-state. Since the miscarriage (and really, even before that) I’ve felt deeply unsettled and desperate to move towns.
And this is what used to help: alone time away from “the usual.”
I especially wanted to get away from what-felt-like suffocating demands of working and care-taking. I hoped a weekend trip would literally change my life for the better!
But it didn’t “help” so much as enlighten the real problem: I’m desperately afraid of losing everything and everyone I love. I’m afraid of DEATH.
So instead of embracing LIFE, I make sure I don’t enjoy things “too much,” just in case I have to quickly prepare for losing everything and enveloping myself inside grief.
And god, it’s exhausting.
I understand (intellectually) that it’s not about “losing” so much as “cycling through” what naturally comes from LIFE: change, transition, then death. I understand (intellectually) that we cannot have life without these things.
I just didn’t realize how desperately afraid of death (and life) I’ve become.
And who would have thought that I’d travel 200 miles to realize all this? To realize, too, that I have everything I want and need within the life I’m already living.
Even if it ends someday, as eventually it will, I want to show up for all of it: good parts and hard parts (and particularly with the people I adore v. alone).
Here’s an writing excerpt from my trip -
“As I wake up alone this morning, I realize that this is maybe all I’ve been missing lately: a slow, sacred start to my day, sitting in bed to write (without being woken or waking anyone!), music playing in the background, time to think and meditate and practice yoga before the demands of the day roll in…
But otherwise, I’m truly grateful for those demands, and the people who make them.
I’m grateful for our closeness especially. Not only our physical closeless, the result of two years in quarantine. But also how deeply we know each other: our daily patterns of movement, changes in facial expression and tone of voice. Sometimes I know my people better than I know myself.
And dammit if it’s taken a trip (and 30 years) to realize that I’ve been running from the good parts of this life because I’m afraid of the bad parts.
I’m afraid of getting too close, of loving too deeply and being loved… because what kind of hell does that invite if I lose all that?
I thought I was “protecting” myself from being deeply hurt, later. Which sounds completely illogical! (It is.)
But fear is not privy to logic.
I love so deeply, so intensely that it’s hard to imagine how life can, and will, change. It’s hard to imagine loss - but also growth and forward movement. I’m holding on so tightly because I can’t bear the thought of losing the people I love and care for, the dreams I nurture, the community I treasure.
And somehow that translates into the feeling that I might explode if I don’t get time away, time alone - even though actually getting that turns out to be lonely and the complete opposite of what I desire.
I’m grateful for a getaway trip. But next time, I don’t want to go alone. That was deeply helpful during an earlier part of my life - but now all I want is as much time as possible WITHIN my family, my community.
Because, if it won’t last forever, I want to show up inside all of it (good parts and hard parts) as much as possible while I can.
And I need my people for that.”
with so much love, alycia buenger
Why I Write Stories
I started writing stories when I was young. My mom has file folders packed with elementary school essays and journaling pages.
I liked writing stories because I could control the ending (or, the whole thing really).
I especially liked writing the kinds of stories that have no problems, no misunderstandings, and no climax - just happy, happy, happy from beginning to end.
Which is why my stories were boring as hell.
I understand that our most challenging moments, and the big feelings that follow, are required for Real Life. I understand that’s what makes the good moments even better.
I understand, intellectually.
I started writing stories when I was young. My mom has file folders packed with elementary school essays and journaling pages.
I liked writing stories because I could control the ending (or, the whole thing really).
I especially liked writing the kinds of stories that have no problems, no misunderstandings, and no climax - just happy, happy, happy from beginning to end.
Which is why my stories were boring as hell.
I understand that our most challenging moments, and the big feelings that follow, are required for Real Life. I understand that’s what makes the good moments even better.
I understand, intellectually.
But I also find it deeply annoying, particularly when I’m inside the hard times. And right now, I am.
Like many of you I’ve been swimming upstream for most of this year.
My anxiety (or, my “dragons” as my kids like to say) reared its head in February, and it's been a bumpy ride since. I was accepted to graduate school, and then I dropped out. We decided to have a third baby, and then I lost the pregnancy.
There’s been sickness, and broken friendships, and big feelings I don’t know what to do with.
(Thank god for my therapist, and my husband, and my personal commitment to sacred practice. But still. It’s been a long year.)
For the last several weeks especially I’ve been inside this hole of anxiety that says: “You have to control everything.
You have to make the scary parts go away, and you do that by controlling what happens next.”
And as we all know by now, controlling everything (or anything) is impossible - and any attempt to make it reality only prolongs the hard moments of suffering.
I know this, intellectually.
But my body in its Wholeness is not only intellectual: my physical body needs a physical reminder that it’s safe, my mental body needs a mental reminder that it’s okay to rest, and my spiritual body needs a loving reminder that it’s important here, too (and not forgotten or ignored).
So, today I leave you with a few practices I’ve found helpful lately - this is a series of “Self-Compassion Breaks” by Dr. Kristin Neff. (I particularly enjoy the Tender Self-Compassion Break, the General Self-Compassion Break, and the Loving-Kindness Meditation.)
And some good news:
I no longer write stories full of happy beginnings, middles, and ends.
I just write.
I write not to control the story, but to tell mine from within and around the good and hard moments.
I write to process what’s happening, to move through big feelings, to tell the whole story as it relates to my life (which often allows me to relate to the whole story as it relates to your life).
I hope that’s what keeps us both connected - to ourselves, to each other, to the earth, to the collective.
with so much love, alycia buenger
What To Do When You're Feeling Anxious + Overwhelmed
I’ve been in the “regularly anxious and overwhelmed” category since I was a kid.
Overwhelm is so familiar to me by now, I often know the cause, and even the solution! But somehow, it’s still incredibly hard to escape.
Probably because, I’m trying to escape… v. stay long enough to move through it.
I’m writing to you in the middle of overwhelm (which always makes me question whether I really know what I’m doing, whether I really know how to support anyone - including myself).
When I say “overwhelm,” I’m talking about what I experience as overwhelm:
anxiety, fear, anger, confusion, not-enough-ness, too-much-ness, wishing to be BOTH completely alone + completely surrounded by my favorite people (and maybe Oprah, and Kristen Bell’s character on The Good Place for good measure).
Basically, I’m feeling lots of things at once and almost no clarity about any of it.
I’ve been in the “regularly anxious and overwhelmed” category since I was a kid.
Overwhelm is so familiar to me by now, I often know the cause, and even the solution! But somehow, it’s still incredibly hard to escape.
Probably because, I’m trying to escape… v. stay long enough to move through it.
Which is the point I think: to move through the feeling, to get to the other side.
So here’s what I’m doing today, to get to the other side (I hope it serves as a reminder, for me and for you, when overwhelm inevitably shows up again) -
FIRST, I’m slowing the fuck down.
Which honestly sounds insane, since my whole life moves at a snail’s pace (with young kids who do the same three things on repeat + inside a worldwide quarantine).
But my mind has a hard time slowing down, even (or especially) inside motherhood.
To support myself and my busy brain, I’m reading a favorite novel from childhood (to give my thinking-self a quick break) + cancelling all afternoon plans to sit outside with my girls.
(Please note: creating time to read + cancelling plans isn’t possible for everyone right now. My goal in life is to make it more possible, for myself and other womxn - because if we don’t slow down voluntarily, our bodies often make it a do-or-die necessity.)
SECOND, I’m pulling out my (mental) list of “what feels good,” and doing the ONE thing that will support me now.
I have a long, long list of what feels good + supportive… but I’m not trying to overwhelm my already-overwhelmed self, right?
JUST PICK ONE is my forever mantra. For me right now, it’s painting my nails the color that makes me feel powerful today: sparkles.
(And P.S. Yes, eating ice cream feels good; yes, binge-scrolling Instagram feels good… until it doesn’t.
I’m talking about the really easy, simple, five-minute things we can DO: like 10 squats at the kitchen counter, or taking a steamy-hot shower, or grabbing drive-through coffee.
The point is, it should be REAL self-care, not the kind that feels good and then turns out to make things worse.)
Thank you for reading today - writing about my experience is another supportive practice I reach for inside overwhelm, because it helps me (+ it might help you).
My wish for you right now is that you move through overwhelm + get to the other side with deeper wisdom, greater Love, and the strength to keep going.
xx, alycia buenger
(DISCLAIMER: none of the above should ever replace getting help from a trusted counselor, therapist, or friend if that’s what you need. I am not a therapist, counselor, or medical health professional. This article is about what I do to complement professional forms of support.)
Lead With Desire: How To Do MORE Of What You Want
Some of the greatest teachers of our time (Danielle LaPorte’s Desire Map, all of Glennon Doyle’s words) - they say, “Desire is what leads us deeper into ourselves!”
And that’s my experience, too.
LEAD WITH DESIRE is one of the key parts of my work: first, because women often don't (and why not experiment!); second, because that's what's divinely gifted as guidance in the right direction.
The basic rule is this: Ritualize what supports you (i.e. do more of what you desire). And limit what doesn't (i.e. do less of what you don't).
Once upon a time I had an incredible therapist (who I hated) who said, “What you need is a box full of supports, metaphorical and in real-life, to keep you grounded when you’re ready to fly away.”
At the time I thought, “NO, what I need is a brain transplant, because I can’t escape the hard-ness of motherhood, and maybe, probably, another brain might?”
She was right, though.
What I needed was a go-to list of what supports me: When I’d rather eat ice-cream than write about my feelings, When I’d rather binge Netflix than roll out my mat, When I’d rather walk away from my family than plow through another hard conversation.
(If this all sounds rather serious, that’s because life is serious business. Fun maybe, but serious - and sometimes harder than we imagine possible.)
Quite frankly, I’m still not great with this practice.
I have my list, I have my box full of items that remind me I’m a Good, Whole person with a Soul-Purpose and a long, long list of reasons to show up.
But still, my practice is… a practice.
The important realization here is that: Everything inside my “support system box” is everything I love most.
And holy smokes, if that’s not the solution to the problem in the first place.
Do MORE of what you want, MORE of what you deep-down desire… and LESS of what you don’t.
Some of the greatest teachers of our time (Danielle LaPorte’s Desire Map, all of Glennon Doyle’s words) - they say, “Desire is what leads us deeper into ourselves!”
And that’s my experience, too.
LEAD WITH DESIRE is one of the key parts of my work: first, because women often don't (and why not experiment!); second, because that's what's divinely gifted as guidance in the right direction.
Thoughts on this? Share ‘em in the comments below!
xx, alycia buenger