Letters to my daughters (November): CLEAR

Photo: Vanessa Bucceri @ Unsplash

My darling girls (and to my love. This is with you in mind too and long overdue.)

To clear. To be clear.

It’s not rocket science I know, but I’ve never really made the association before between the doing-ness of ‘to clear’ and the being-ness of ‘to be clear’. To have clarity about something, we might need to clear something else out of the way that currently obscures our view – a story, a belief or a habit, maybe.

Or maybe we just need to put away a ton of cuddly toys and lego.

You know when we make a big effort to clear up your bedroom, and tackle the tsunami of stuff that keeps popping out of its container? And you know when we really make time to clear the floor and see the carpet again? It gives us all (us grown-ups too) a chance to start a new game and to feel a bit more at peace with what’s what. We can even get the hoover out at last.

It’s not science at all actually; more a feeling. But it’s a good one I’m learning about at the moment.

Ok. I admit it. I’m not great at noticing the mess. I let things pile up and allow the chaos in. It is, in part, a product of growing up with your Granny Bel; her capacity for chaos had no bounds. When we were children, it was common to look for a lost item in the bottom of one of the many black plastic bags that she shovelled the mess into on a daily basis. They became a joke, those black plastic bags – a birthday present even! Oh how we laughed.

But that was not really dealing with the mess, it seems. We adapted, instead, to meet her chaos. We learned to manoeuvre ourselves around the lost items and whilst we watched the black plastic bags pile up, I think we just learned to ignore the difficulty of things not being in their natural homes. We children are remarkably adaptable, you know. I was one too, once.

The thing is, I don’t want to pass on that same message to you two. As your mama, I think one of my jobs is to recognise what stories have been passed on to me – and decide, today, whether it’s a story I want to keep, or one that needs clearing out. And the story of stuff from my childhood is most definitely one that needs revising: it’s a faulty version of how to live and one I don’t want to pass it on to you. It left my mother in denial and created untold stress.

Maybe the demand to ‘tidy your bedroom!’ needs to become ‘create some space!’ or ‘let’s get clear!’ or something with a more positive motivation and message attached. What do you think? What is the story that will encourage us to put in the effort? What would you like to create by tidying your room?

And in partnership with you, my love, I acknowledge that your capacity for chaos is so very different to my own. You know yourself and what you need: that the seemingly never-ending sort-out of family activity is important for your general wellbeing. The mess can grind you down. I get it. Its new to me – but this recalibrated story is now part of my life, my family, my home – and the old tale of stuff is being rewritten. Slowly.

As we begin to hibernate at this time of year, like hedgehogs, and make our nest ready for rest and slowing down in the winter months – our battle with stuff feels ever more essential. Let’s put things in order my loves, let’s get the cupboards tidy and stock up on what we need (and no more), and let’s make sure everything has its home.

***

This month, I’ve had a blinding bolt of mental clarity, too. So many people who I work with are seeking ‘clarity’ – they lack it, things are fuzzy, and the ‘answer’ is difficult to ‘see’. I know my job looks weirdly like nothing to you – ‘it’s just talking!’ you observed once. But really what I offer is the chance for someone to do their very best thinking – to come to clarity on their own terms.  

It was the bit I loved about teaching, and the bit I love most about my job now: those penny-dropping ‘aha!’ moments when things begin to make sense and take shape in one’s mind. I don’t do that for someone. My students or clients do it for themselves. But sometimes what we need is the time and space (and appropriate degree of support or challenge) to allow the pennies to drop. 

And this month I had my own wrestle with something – which, I’m glad to say, has allowed me to find a clearer way forward with something important to me. I realised that some of those faulty stories I was telling you about, were getting in my way – and to see my beliefs as the obstacles they have become, has helped clear a path towards something I really want.

Finding mental clarity is very much like clearing the lego from the floor, putting the books back on the shelf and leading the My Little Ponies back to their stable. It is like tidying your room – seeing the carpet again and putting everything back in its place. And it creates the same feeling – like being able to breathe again, dance again, start a new game.

For me, clarity tends to come in bursts. I don’t think mental clarity is a sustainable state; it is optimal, but we shouldn’t be hard on ourselves if we feel fuzzy at times. What we need is to be able to notice when things feel opaque and reach for the tools to help us find sharpness when we need it. And thus, be able to breathe and dance and think in the mental and physical spaces we create for ourselves.

Clarity requires us to know ourselves – to take responsibility for those old, out of date stories, and to have the courage the clear them out or rewrite them if they are not working for us anymore.

Clarity requires us to do ‘The Work’ – and know what we want and need. It requires us to stand back and see the whole, as well as dive in and witness the detail.

Clarity cannot be given to you – like a pair of spectacles – it is something you need to work towards, gently windscreen-wiping away the detritus (the stories, the stuff) to reveal what is true.

And sometimes, as it was for me this month, it’ll come like a bolt from the blue – an electric surge - as pre-existing dots join up and take shape as a veritable constellation, with edges and sparkle and a meaningful story attached.

So, as a recovering mess-maker, I say: take time to notice (and stay alert to) the detritus. Working towards clarity can help you create the spaces in which to dance and play and breathe. That’s worth the effort, right?

From your loving mama and partner (both a work in progress) x