Gimme my Phone!

So I've been off the grid for the past two weeks in more ways than one.  Not only did I leave my computer at home for my vacation, but I inadvertently left my cell phone, too. Horrors!

I was in a panic when I realized I'd left it up in our bedroom, charging in the docking station. I spent the next four hours in low level anxiety, trying to problem solve ways for my husband to MAIL me my phone, even though I didn't really need it. By the end of the day, I was still shaken, but hopeful of a plan to get the phone across the border to Canada one way or the other.

But after a few days, when I started to realize that I really didn't need it that much (I virtually turn it off while we're out of the country, to avoid all those pesky roaming charges), I gave up on putting my husband through mail order hell to deliver something to me I didn't need but was merely addicted to.

I was able to check my email on my mom's computer, which satisfied my inner tech beast's daily requirement of screen time. But I learned something valuable: something I thought was SO vital, SO essential to my daily life, just wasn't. It was a non-issue.

I had worried, natch, about flying home with two kids and no phone for logistics, but we managed perfectly well and didn't need a text play by play to meet my husband at the baggage claim. We just met there. No phone needed.

So I got myself a healthy dose of humble pie; I do not need to be a slave to my phone. I fear many of us are, and the trend to have our faces aimed at screens for much of the day is not my idea of a wonderful world. This experience taught me to let go, yet again proving that Buddhism is the most sensible philosophy I know.

Making a Plan

I've noticed that my anxiety has gone done quite a bit since I made a schedule and plan for this current week, which is chock filled with trainings, packing, trains, camps, and errands. I'm not saying I'm going to stick exactly to my plan, since that rarely happens, but having the plan is the thing. I think some people call it "setting your intentions".

That's pretty much what I'm doing: laying out each day and parsing the different things I have to do on a micro level, so that they don't all have to be done at the last minute, half-assed, or frenetically.

I didn't even use my phone or an app or special software to do it. I did use the computer, JUST TO TYPE. I know, I'm so old school.

So I typed up a list of the days and the activities required therein. And I just checked off today as a solid success. Done and done.

Tomorrow there will be more errands, but I'm calm because I have a plan to refer to. If we needed to, we could be out the door in under an hour, by throwing together the snacks I've got, making lunch, and finishing packing. We're a good way there already and it's only Monday, which is great because my end of the week is FULL. So I'm sorting stuff out while I can.

This makes me less anxious and more peaceful. I like it. Now I can just be for an hour before dinner. That makes me happy.

Change

Taking care of two intelligent, active children is no joke. There are ups and downs all day, especially since they are both oozing into tweendom these days. It's little refusals, digging in of heels, that show evidence of individuation, which is healthy and normal and developmentally appropriate, I know.

But it still tugs at my heart that they don't need me the way they used to. I know that probably sounds wierd, because of COURSE they still need me, perhaps now more than ever, but there are now purgatorial blocks of time in the day when they no longer need me. I remember when they were little, I couldn't wait for nap time, for a break. Now it seems "nap time" is most of the time, with intermittent clashes and/or drama and the need to check in with Mom.

Again, I'm not complaining about this. It is teaching me new skills; staying nonreactive in intense situations, keeping perspective, and letting them grow into themselves with as little restriction as possible.

It always comes back to letting go, doesn't it?