Compassion

I'm going to do a little experiment. I'm going to try and let go. I mean, stop trying to micromanage everything and see what happens. Also, be kinder. Let compassion guide me. It's embarrassing to admit, but I think I can be very unkind. Unyielding too. Hold people to too high expectations. A little like Katherine Hepburn's character in The Philadelphia Story. (Only without the willowy stature and elegant clothing). My standards are too high, maybe. And I'm hard to please.

The message of benevolence has been relayed to me from many voices over the past several months. Church. Yoga class. Doctor's offices. Books by Elizabeth Gilbert. I just haven't been putting them together. Essentially the message is this: Love and compassion are the way to eternal peace and divinity. God is compassion. A life of love is a life of peace. And it's weird, because I know I love my kids and my husband more than anything. But there is rarely peace.

Also, the more I try to control, the less effective I am. And the more worried and tense that I feel. What do I think, that if I don't act, the world will stop turning on its axis? The birds will fall out of the sky? The kids' performance in school will decline miserably? I'm not sure what I think, but those options all sound pretty pompous.

I try to be loving. I could say that all my actions (and reactions) are out of love. But to be kinder. To be more understanding. To act with compassion. These are the goals of this experiment.

I'll start with one week. Just try to let go. And be kind.

I'll be yar, now. I promise.