Most of us go through our lives struggling with something (or somethings) that are . . . well, let’s just say they are “leftovers” from our childhoods. Guilt. Shame. Abandonment. Not-being-enough-ness.

For me, the big bugaboo is . . .  living with a lack of clarity and uncertainty. Always. If I’m struggling, the root of the issue is going to be . . . lack of clarity and uncertainty.

It took a long time for me to understand this about myself, and to come up with strategies that work when I find myself triggered and falling into old traps, putting up barriers and feeling paralyzed, unable to move forward again.

So this weekend, I picked daffodils.
Which seems like an unconnected thing to talk about here, but – you’ll see – it’s really not.

My daffodils are blooming beautifully in my garden right now, but because we’ve had less-than-ideal weather (lots of wind and rain, but – thankfully – no snow), most of my daffodils are blooming . . .  while laying flat on the ground. In “normal” times (as in . . . times with a functional kitchen and access to my full living space), I’d just go out and cut those daffodils, arrange them in a vase, and plop them on a table.

But right now . . . I’m experiencing a lack of clarity and uncertainty. Because no surface in my house is clear right now. Stuff from my kitchen is everywhere. I’m not sure exactly where my vase collection is, but I do know they are all well wrapped and packed away. I feel very disconnected from my “regular life” right now; definitely living in a liminal space.

And then I caught myself (“busted” myself, is how I think of it) . . . falling into that familiar old pattern of putting up barriers because I . . . was lacking clarity and felt uncertain. Again.

So I made myself look around for something – anything – that could hold a bunch of daffodils, and I happened upon a tall beverage jug with a spigot (the one I use to make sangria in for parties) that I had randomly tucked away in a corner of the dining room. Too big, but it could hold water – and a big bunch of daffodils. And I cleared a space on our kitchen island (we got partial and limited access to the kitchen for the weekend) and plopped that arrangement down.

Minor. Minor. Minor.
Yet still a win for me . . . as someone who can easily feel trapped by a lack of clarity and uncertainty in my life. I noticed what I was doing, and I forced my way past the (lame) barriers I was putting up for myself.

I think I have a new mantra:
GO PICK THE DAMN DAFFODILS.

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(And . . . you can see a hint of what’s happening in my kitchen there in the background. I did carefully “crop” this photo so you can’t see the paper taped to my countertops and floors or the plastic on the walls, or all the construction and painting supplies just out of the frame. I am happy to report that the stove and refrigerator are now back in their regular places, though, and no longer blocking our path to the living room. Progress.)