When Spinning My Wheels Gets Me Nowhere
The practice of contentment
A Newsletter I Loved:
‘s writing about how to ground yourself when you feel the pull toward distraction feels very relevant to my own process of cultivating contentment. I think there’s a strong correlation between contentment, feeling grounded, presence, wonder, kindness, curiousity, and other such ways of being, and I’ve noticed that there’s huge crossover between the practices that help me live them out.
I used to think that contentment would happen when I reached a point in life where I finally obtained all the things *I believe* I want and need: a fulfilling career, material possessions, various relationships, healing and growth. I spun my wheels during my twenties believing that, when I achieved this, I would finally feel…whole.
In recent years, I’ve grown tired of chasing this elusive goal, wondering why the target seems to keep moving on me. I started to wonder if maybe contentment isn’t something that comes from my circumstances, but from the internal perceptions I hold of my circumstances. Perhaps I could challenge the stories I was telling myself about what I need and start to live in the both/and: I both have enough for today AND I’m still working towards more for tomorrow.
When I feel like my home isn’t new enough or big enough or functional enough, I remind myself of all the memories we make every day, every season, every year. I choose to focus on gratitude for a warm and safe place to live that cares for our daily needs and gives us just enough space, even if it doesn’t look like it comes off a Pinterest board.
When I feel like a crap parent who has no capacity some days, I think back to all the ways I show my kids what it means to be imperfect and beautiful; the joyful moments we’ve had, alongside the hard ones; the space we allow for them to live in their full humanity. I remind myself that one difficult parenting day (or week, or month) doesn’t define my worth as a parent.
When I start comparing myself to someone else, I remember that they are no better or worse than me. We are different people, have different skills, and have been on our own journeys—and that’s okay. There’s time for me to keep carving out my place in this world, keep failing, and keep learning a little more each day. No person who’s impacted my life ever started out perfect—there’s always a hidden story behind success.
When I worry that my gifts aren’t good enough for others, I just choose to do it for myself. Maybe another person will resonate with what I’ve put forth and maybe they won’t, but the simple act of creating rather than only consuming is, in and of itself, a worthwhile venture.
When I feel like I need to do more healing, I remind myself that I don’t need to be perfect to be loveable. I tell myself that I can rest in this place a little while if it feels too hard to keep growing right now. I remember Little Aleesha, who hustled so hard to try be enough for everyone else, and choose to love her just as she was.
When I feel like I want something I can’t have, I intentionally pause and remind myself that I can both admire beautiful things AND not have to have them, that my worth doesn’t come from what I have but the ways in which I show up in my family, my friendships, and my community.
We’re heading home from Canmore as this is being sent out. Not gonna lie, the first two days were not what I hoped for; Sage and I did not sleep well for two nights, and the children have been less than enthused about walking around the shops and beautiful trails. I felt the itchy feeling of wanting more enjoyment, more rest, more contentment, which really gets me in my head.
I ended up spending the afternoon today walking Sage in her stroller and getting a book I saw but felt like I shouldn’t buy, enjoying a hot cup of tea, and even finding a couple stocking stuffers. I wasn’t going to, as Sage woke from her nap early, but said F*** IT and did it anyway. Which felt good (along with getting more than 1 hour of sleep in a row 😂) because I did what I wanted to do rather than what I thought I should do. The balance is tricky, and I find that there’s no single answer that will work every time; I need to give myself time and space to tune into what feels right.
How you are challenging the narratives that can make you feel like who you are, what you have, or what you do is not enough?
This really resonates with me. I’ve always had mixed feeling about Christmas and tend toward Grinch-habits, whilst Nathan’s always been the Christmas elf. It’s always been a bit of banter between us, until last year when we spent our first Christmas apart in over ten years. Since our circumstances have changed, our future holidays won’t ever look the same as what we had, and we were both getting pretty hung up on that earlier in the year, almost grieving for something we never even really had (read: the magical Christmas with all of “our” traditions). So I decided to reframe the situation. Away from expectation and toward, coincidentally, contentment. And it’s actually gone a long way to changing our perception of the situation, and even making us both cautiously excited for the season ahead.
I definitely feel this one. I've been chasing contentment my whole life but I've always felt like certain things needed to happen first, or I needed to change myself, etc. It's taken me a long time to be able to stay more present and appreciate where I am while also understanding I can still strive for more/ better.