Thinking outside the gourd

By Mindy

Oh, why not? I haven't seen the inside of my gourd in so long I may as well enjoy the change of scenery. As a working mother of three in the middle of a divorce but still living with my husband out of financial necessity and a vast sense of inertia, I don't often find myself thinking along rational lines, but somehow I've always managed to keep my stool from tipping over.

And what stool would that be, pray tell? Several years ago, a friend described a philosophy that stated that while you can operate a four-legged stool (the legs representing love, family, friends, work) on three or even two legs if absolutely necessary, it wasn't a stool that was well-balanced, or one that you could sit on without that constant sense of vertigo you get just before you pitch over. Or something. Whatever. Note to self: Get. Your prescription. Filled.

I'm one of those people who can function quite well, astonishing and impressively well, under pressure and in the face of adversity. On reflection, I think that it would be more accurate to say that I am able to cope only so long as one leg of that stool is still functional.

This week, that last leg was kicked out from under me when I learned that my job was on the line for surprisingly nebulous and mysterious reasons. For some reason, I kept my family and myself together through catastrophic illness, four bouts of post-partum depression, financial peril, relationship Chernobyl, and familial Waterloo, but the rumor of job instability is what broke me. It was the last thing I had. The lone, untouched and unblemished leg of my otherwise worm-eaten stool.

Without a point of balance, I find myself frantically groping for some solid and instructive point of reference. I need something that doesn't give when I ask it to support some of my weight. I find myself turning in circles, looking just behind me, wondering where to rest, and thinking in a stream of unsettling and urgent questions, the most frequent one being, "Is this what it's like? Is this what it's like? Is this what it's like?"

My stool is currently in the shop and I expect it to be refurbished soon, but just in case it never regains its former structural integrity, I am teaching myself to squat.

Comments

[Amanda]

Mindy,

Having met you, I know the squatting thing is going to work out just fine. In fact, you could probably start your own foundation and give them all a run for their money.

Seriously, though, if you need that friend leg of the stool boosted up a bit, I'm here. Literally right across the street. And these shoulders are wide and excellent for crying on (as long as you don't mind a little baby slime).

XO,

Amanda

[Jenny]

I have so much respect for you, Mindy. Be well.

[amy]

Love the metaphor, great piece written out of difficult times. hugs to you and hang in there.

[Robin P]

I hate when things feel so overwhelming that I can't figure out how to go on. They say that G-d only gives you as much as you can handle and sometimes I think G-d doesn't know me as well as He thinks He does. I passed "all I can handle" a while back but He must not have been paying attention.
Even though you can learn to squat without your stool you may lose a leg next time and then you are squatting on one leg and toppling over. Humans are damn resilient creatures and Moms are even more so.
Always remember, "this too shall pass" and hang in there. Maybe it's just time for you to find a better job. Change is not always bad. It's just something different.
Good luck!!

[Teddi]

Recently in Seattle a woman was found in her apartment with two of her three children dead from neglect and malnourishment. One was 16 months, one 6 weeks. The other child was extremely malnourished, but will live. I'm not trying to minimize your problems. My point is: THAT is losing it, while you are actually keeping everything together. I admire you for being able to parent three children, let alone the other myriad things you have going on. Give yourself some credit, and hang in there!

[lissa]

You don't know squat, yet?
It's actually very handy when you need to duck quickly from the flying crap that is your life. Oh, then there's the other use for squatting (briefly mentioned above: see crap), and it enables you to position yourself to see between the legs of the stool hence using it as a deflector shield.

Soooo, squatting. Good. When you really need to deal with a lot of crap.

[kelly]

My Maude, there's something to be said for having at least half a leg left on your stool, but squatting, now there's a skill I can get behind.

I hope it all works out favorably. You deserve it.

[Jo]

Oh my. I know you didn't ask for it, but (((Hugs))) anyway. Lots on your plate, though you seem to have your sh## together, man. I'll be thinking of you and following your story closely - great metaphor.

[Mir]

I love the stool metaphor, but I suggest to you that this was more of a straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back situation. Either way, I know you'll be okay. Love ya.

[laurijon]

So much of our adult identity is wrapped up in what we do for a living. It's one of the ways we feel and tangibly see self worth. Know, Mindy, that your center of balance is still right inside you (no squatting needed). I'd venture to say that as a working mother of three you have so much more going for you than most single people. Draw strength from the fact that YOU brought three human beings into the world and are raising them. A task more difficult than mere employment. And KNOW, that if need be, you can dust off that resumé, put on that business suit and find an even better job than the one you may be loosing. You're a mom, you can do it!