A deliberate cliff hanger.

Surf the Catholic mom blogs and it doesn't take long to gather a lot of angsty I'm-a-bad-mom links.

(I was going to post some, but I decided I don't want the mombloggers in question to think I am picking on them.)

 And what do you see? 

I spend too much time on the internet.  I spend too much time on the phone.  I need to take more time out for prayer in my day.  I need to stop reading about other people's lives.  I need to be fully present to my children.  I need to be more fully present to my spouse.  I probably should be taking the kids to daily Mass.  Maybe I should take a break from blogging.  Maybe I should go on a diet.  I should really re-subscribe to Flylady because my house is a mess.  I should really unsubscribe from Flylady because I can't keep up.  I need to bake more cookies.  I need to celebrate more feast days.   I need to sign up for a holy hour. 

I need to be more loving.  I need to be more devout.  I need to be more motherly.  I need to be more devoted.  I need to be more available.  I need to be more organized.  I need to be ...

... more...

... everything.

Everything at once.

Stop the madness, people.  Stop it now.

  * * *

I've been hinting for a long time that I want to explore the possibility that what I learned about gluttony through my weight loss could be applied in other areas of my life.  

Here:   

Is the "answer" to overcoming temptations of all kinds really for the "inner self" -- the one who "takes delight" in moral or correct or healthy or Godly behavior -- to set up the kind of structure around the "members" that cajoles them to behave?  To offer to the weak flesh, in return for good behavior, the short-term goodies it craves?

And here:

What do you really want to change about yourself?  I mean -- among the things that you could change.  Really.

I know I have a long list.  I wish I reflexively, automatically, responded to my children by strengthening connections, not rupturing them.   I wish that desire for the Lord, rather than duty, would draw me to prayer several times a day.  I wish that my irritation at an untidy house didn't get in the way of welcoming people into my home;  I wish I was more generous to my friends.  I wish I had a better grasp on how much money I spend.  I wish I knew how to teach my children love for Jesus as well as I think I know how to teach them theology and logic.  I wish I didn't waste any time sitting in front of the computer each day.   The list goes on.

Once I would have said "I wish I wasn't so heavy and out of shape."  I don't say that anymore.  So:  hope.

And skill.  I have a theory -- still untested -- that I can apply something I learned with the heavy/out of shape thing, to all those other wishes and longings. 

And here:

I didn't gain willpower overnight.  But I did, it seems, gain a will.  And the will to live differently was enough to drive me to find a way around the obstacles, the impulses.  It was suddenly so obvious to me that to follow these urges would still feel good, but would be the opposite of what I desired -- those paths would not just take me the opposite direction from what I desired, they would BE the opposite of what I desired.  I wanted to feel the steeper trail beneath my feet, not just the smooth downward grade.  I wanted more than the view from the top.  Though the effort would hurt, I wanted to climb. 

That desire is something that seems to have come out of nowhere, a pure gift; the closest thing I have ever come to understanding what grace is.  I believe there is more yet I can learn from it.  I believe I know what I am to do with it next. 

Will I?

And here:

I keep hinting about wanting to use what I've learned to defeat gluttony, to combat my next most besetting vice, which is letting this leisure-time activity of mine (and it's really not just internet use -- reading in general is part of it too) consume my attention.  It's possible that part of the problem is overconsumption, devoting too much time to it, and I guess I haven't exhausted the possibilities of self-limitation of total hours.  But honestly, I don't think it is "total time" that is the trouble.  It's the totality with which I get absorbed, even in taking a very short break to check e-mail or to dash off a quick blog post.  It's the reluctance to be interrupted.  I think Jen may have put her finger on it a bit in her post. 

Part of my vocation as mother demands that I make myself available to be interrupted when my children need something from me.  I am terrible at this.  Yes, I also need to train my children not to interrupt me for trivial matters, but you know, I want to be a mom who says "Sure, I'll read you a story" or "Yes, I'll help you settle that argument" or "Okay, I'll feed you breakfast."  I don't want the first thing I say to my kids in the morning to be "Aaaargh!  What are you doing up already?  It's not even seven o'clock yet!"  Even if I'm not done with my blog post.

I am struggling with how to put the pieces together for a strategy to change myself.  If I can do what I've already done, what can't I do?  But I still am not sure how to go about it.  I feel like I need a plan.

It wasn't just a plan I needed.  I needed a unifying theme.  I couldn't quite wrap my mind around exactly HOW the things I wanted to change could be analogous to the thing I DID change.  I know I don't want my children to remember me constantly staring at the computer screen, I know I need to say "Yes" more often, I know I need to be cheerfully interruptible.  And I had an inkling that the gluttony thing, what I've learned there, is meant to serve that higher purpose.  But I couldn't quite see how.  I have been thinking and praying about it for a many weeks, hoping that something would come clear to me.  Something that would show me how to get started, as clearly as that long-ago epiphany (May 13, 2008) when I woke up and decided to try being hungry for a change.

And a few nights ago, I think it did come to me.  I think I see where this has been going, all along.

More on this later.

Comments

[Jamie]

No, wait, don't leave me hanging like that. Part Two soon, please.

[Kate]

aaaaugh! Cliff-hanger!

Waiting with bated breath.

[Rebekka]

I do that sucked-away thing with books too. It took me a long time to realize that part of my love for reading was escapism. (Not saying *you're* an escapist.)

[Delores]

Okay, two comments: first, how could you leave us hanging like this?! :)

Second, I have often wondered if it isn't all gluttony. For me, I may be able to deny myself some food, but then something else comes in and takes over. Frequently it is reading or knitting. It could be surfing the net. We don't really watch TV, but sometimes I'll get into a series on netflix. To me, gluttony is not just about food, it is a vice that permeates my life... along with sloth. And I firmly believe the two are totally intertwined in my life. It manifests itself in not only not wanting to do the work and prayers I should, but also in not wanting to work against gluttony, to fight against it.