With Love From the Momster

I know I already updated with a poem today, but maybe my faithful readers (heh) would like something happier than sexual abuse to ponder. I've been thinking about strength.

I once wrote in my LiveJournal about how the woman in charge of Habitat for Humanity in Tupelo, Mississippi commented on my apparent toughness: "You're tough, you know. I don't have to worry about you." She said this as I was climbing onto the back of a rather ornery horse that I, as the one in the group with the most experience, had volunteered to ride. And this was at the end of a week of working with power tools, so there was her basis for judgment. But that didn't make me feel strong. Not emotionally, anyway.

My mother, however, happened to read this LiveJournal post. Her response, I think, is worth highlighting:

The question isn't whether or not you are tough. Anyone can be tough. After all "toughness" isn't necessarily a desirable trait--no one wants tough steak, tough luck, tough homework assignments...you get my point.

The real question should be how do you conquer the challenges of life and yet remain soft? Not spineless. But soft. Softness allows you to bend instead of breaking, to be open and approachable and touchable. Softness allows you to feel, which might sometimes lead to pain, but is still far better than a life without feeling.

So wield those power tools, shoot your guns, climb a ladder (or a tree or a mountain), and ride ornery horses (remember the ornery ones need you the most), but through it all, remain soft. Ever-soft.

That's my advice on life this week!

Love you!
The Momster

After reading that, I made a mental note to avoid letting the stress and frustration my job might bring make me stop caring less about it. I felt like I was succeeding for the most part, until the last week, week eight, when I knew I was ready to go home. I still cared about the people and finishing the projects, I more felt tired of the complaints of volunteers and the more menial tasks that needed to be done (i.e. paperwork!)

But now that I'm thinking more about it, I do feel jaded, which frustrates me like any weakness would. I'm not reacting to things the way that I have normally reacted in the past. I haven't really cried in months, and I probably should have on numerous occasions. I do not feel strong, in any sense of the word. But I do still care, about people and crappy situations and everything I've always cared about, even if I haven't shown it--or am I just telling myself that?

No. I care. A lot. A family member emailed me today just to say "hi" and "I love you". It made my day.

I just need some time, is all.