Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, I feel like life is a bowl of stew, and I’m walking precariously around the rim of the bowl. Like a tightrope walker, but without the umbrella. The stew is a mess of painful experiences and emotions – fear, sadness, despair, disappointment, nagging worries, and, of course, shame.

Being “in the stew” is what my old therapist used to call it when I was tangled up in a bunch of those unpleasant, painful emotions and struggling to find my way back out. Near drowning in the gooey deliciousness of stew, in among the chunks of potatoes and carrots.

I have fallen in the stew and climbed back out probably a thousand times. Maybe more – but who’s counting? Not I.

And I’m not in the stew right now. I can see it right there, but I haven’t slipped into it. So that’s good.

In fact – my life is going really well. I’ve changed a bunch of habits since I was sick a while back and am really happy about it. I never imagined I could be happy about letting go of caffeine, but I am. I have taken to fixing myself a fancy decaf latte in the afternoons = with frothy oat milk, since I mostly gave up dairy too. A splash of sugar-free vanilla flavoring and it’s perfect for a 3:00 coffee break.

I’ve kept off the weight I lost when I was sick, and am really happy about that. I am finally at the weight I set for myself years ago and periodically struggled to achieve. I know we’re not supposed to make weight a measure of success, but it still makes me happy. And I feel better for it.

I’ve made a bunch of changes in my home environment, and that’s been good. I have some new rituals and am building some new habits and that’s exciting. MP is doing better and making some changes in how he lives, and that’s been really good. My daughter is doing well and the grands are pretty much thriving.

So why do I feel like I’m walking on the rim of the bowl of stew?

Oh, hmmm. Maybe it’s because I feel like I have a lot to lose now. As if one misstep, one wrong word, can bring it all tumbling down.

Well, damn. It’s attachment. Attachment to the way things are now, fear of losing what I’ve gained. Sheesh.

I know that’s not helpful. As Pema Chodron says:

“Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”

What ever is, just is. There is sadness and suffering enough in the world already without me having to create my own. I might quit thinking about my own possible misery and think about how I might help make a difference – even a tiny difference – in the world around me.

When I was a little girl, we had an old hi-fi and I used to play records on it and dance and sing along. One of my favorites way back then was Que Sera, Sera by Doris Day. Whatever will be, will be. So I’ll pull on that energy now, maybe hum the song as I move through the house. I invite you to listen to it too – although, fair warning, it may be an a bit of an ear worm.