stop mowing!

When you lose a child, the world becomes a different place. You become a different person. What once mattered, doesn’t anymore, and you start to either see the world more clearly, or completely let despair blur your outlook. I started out in despair. But that’s because I somehow thought I was going to maintain my lifestyle, maintain my relationships, and maintain my value system. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it would prove to be impossible. I wasn’t capable of being a professional, I couldn’t engage in small talk. If I could maintain, I would be ok-I would be normal again. What I thought was normal, was monotonous and soul-sucking, and wasn’t going to work for me anymore (and honestly, I wasn’t happy then either, so what was I trying to maintain?) Like a lot of people in my situation, everything seems petty and unimportant to me now. I almost feel like I’ve been brainwashed for most of my life. Do this and you’ll be successful. Do that and you’ll be happy. Follow the rules and your life will run smoothly. It’s all a lie. I’ve always tried to be what I was supposed to be and I’ve been depressed my entire adult life-coincidence? I think not.

After losing Ian, I realized I don’t have to prove myself to anyone anymore. I’ve said it before, but when Ian died, he took this version of me with him. He was still young enough that I hadn’t gotten the chance to disappoint him, say or do something that scared him for life, or for him to realize I was just a person too-full of flaws. And, once I got the realization that I was what was amazing, that I was his sanctuary, that I was the embodiment of true love to him; then that’s the person I truly was. That was my success.

So, when I started to reevaluate what was important, I thought of that. But in order to change my thinking, I had to have a breakdown. I read this quote today that resonated, “So many breakdown because they cannot carry the weight of falsity any longer. They are actually breaking through to a more authentic consciousness. It may feel crazy-but it actually is a lifesaver. Sadly, this is often stigmatized as a ‘breakdown’ as though they are machines that stopped working. We need to up-frame these experiences and see them for what they are: breakthroughs for inner freedom. Pivotal points of our life. At some point, we just can’t carry the bullshit anymore and long to be real” (Jeff Brown, “Grounded Spirituality). And that’s what happened to me this past time. I broke down because I couldn’t go on like I was anymore. I couldn’t live to please others anymore. I can’t live where money runs every aspect of my life. Losing Ian has taught me what life is about.

My thoughts spurred from a random realization I had while I saw someone mowing their lawn in a neighborhood clearly governed by an HOA. (Almost all neighborhoods in FL are). We just moved out of an HOA community, and the whole time we lived there I thought it was ridiculous. So, you pay the HOA to keep your neighborhood nice. They fine you if you don’t cut your lawn (which, environmentally, none of us should be mowing our lawns-it destroys the native ecosystem, but that’s another topic). So, in order to keep in compliance, you hire a lawn company because your too busy because your working all the time. So you spend money for someone to tell you that you must harm the ecosystem, and if you don’t have time to ruin things yourself (while taking time away from things you enjoy), you must pay someone to do it for you, so you don’t have to pay the HOA fines. What in the fuckery is that? LAWNS are things we value more then time and money. LAWNS that aren’t even supposed to be there. If we care more about what other people think of our freaking grass, then we are doomed as a society. It represents falsity that we all participate in, thinking that what our lawn looks like actually matters. (Sidenote, if you enjoy working in your yard, and it brings peace and happiness, then go for it-grow some food for your family and some flowers for the bees :)

And, that is the type of thing I needed as a wake up call to reevaluate things. I don’t want to be the miserable person mowing my lawn on the weekends because I have to. I don’t want to parent just so I can appear to be a good parent. I don’t want to do anything that doesn’t make me happy and peaceful anymore. Ian taught me that life is fleeting, and there’s no more time to waste mowing the damn lawn.