“Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they’re supposed to help you discover who you are.” Bernice Johnson Reagon

Our fish tank has life again. The past year and a half it sat empty. It was Brian’s hobby, and Blossom happily joined in, choosing fish, plants and rocks, creating a gathering place – something we all needed. 

We moved, a year and a half ago. The fish were gone by then – in addition to his work, Brian was immersed in studies for his Master’s in Business Administration. Between working, studying, travelling and moving, his energy was consumed and the tank sat empty in a corner of a new living room that I couldn’t seem to make homey. It was no longer a beacon, but its emptiness a reminder of the strain I was under. For two years, Brian devoted himself to study. For two years, I learned a new way of life, one that stretched me in ways I couldn’t have foreseen. 

I took on new responsibilities. Things that in the past, I’d relied on Brian to do. 

Still, there were things that I couldn’t accomplish. Many things. 

Which meant when people asked me to do more, I had to say, “No, I can’t keep up.” But I felt afraid. I felt at risk of people seeing that I didn’t measure up. Measure up to what? Looking back, I suppose it was some invisible standard I had set for myself that I thought would protect me from being considered a failure.  

I tried to push myself to do more, but I felt tired. All The Time. Much of my energy was going to trying to deal with the stress of my own frustration. But with Brian busy and me melting, the atmosphere of our home began to resemble our empty fish tank. The kids couldn’t thrive. I struggled to do better, but pushing myself wasn’t enough.  I needed to develop new skills to deal with a new level of challenge. 

Ironically, it was listening to a podcast to help me develop my blog that made me realize I needed to put this very blog on hold. Don Miller of Building a StoryBrand mentioned Greg McKeown’s book: Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less. I bought the book and read it fast. I felt hope. McKeown reminded me it’s okay to say no, it is actually imperative to say no so that we can focus on the most important aspects of our lives. With renewed energy, I pulled out a journal and listed everything I thought I needed to accomplish, then skimmed the list for my essentials. 

My kids made the cut.

I saw more clearly than ever how important they are to me, and how important my role as mom is to them. To dissolve under the pressure of life would be to teach my kids to do the same. They needed me to rise up above and guide them through. I didn’t know if I had what it took, but I knew that if there was a pile of things on my list that were going to go uncared for, it couldn’t be the needs of my kids.

I learned to be okay with not accomplishing everything I expected of myself and I gave up things important to me, so I could give to my kids. 

I sat at the table and ate meals with my kids, even when Brian’s chair sat empty. I stayed at the table and played games with my kids. And I discovered, even on the hardest days, we could laugh together. As I laughed it was easier to let go of fear. 

Challenge, as Bernice Johnson Reagon says, is not to paralyze me, it’s to help me discover who I am. And I did discover. This challenge brought into light some things that I was happy to see, like I was finding new ways to connect with my kids. Other discoveries were harder. I envied that Brian got to devote hours to the pursuit of something that would make him more than what he was. I’ve wanted to go back to school for years. I’ll always be learning, whether in school or out so that wasn’t the root of my discontent. Part of it I wanted for the wrong reason. I longed for a degree to hang on my wall – something that would validate who I am. For as long as I can remember, I’ve craved this affirmation from others. Some proof that I am valuable. 

And here I was, supporting Brian through the very process I thought I needed. I lost sight of the bigger picture, that Brian and I are a team, working together. We were each playing a role in forging new ground, bringing our family into a new place – gaining the skills and experiences we need to pursue our dreams and help launch our kids into theirs. 

Identifying the essentials helped me to see it’s not accomplishment nor the praise of others I crave. It’s actually something much deeper – it’s connection. It’s family. It’s navigating the ups and downs as best we can, together. 

It’s sacrifice. 

Sometimes, it’s simply getting out of bed and finding beauty on a stormy day.

During the first months of Brian’s studies, I kept thinking, I can’t wait for life to go back to how it used to be. By the end of the two years, I was confident that was impossible. We’d changed so much. And though I wish I could give up the pain that motivated me to change, I wouldn’t give up the growth. 

Now Brian has graduated. Yet, it may seem to some we’re still as busy as before. We’ve spent a lot of time home. We’re not buried under our work, though, we’ve found a new balance for work and fun. We have a new appreciation for each other. Even over the Christmas holidays, when I thought our teens would be making plans with their friends, they wanted us to be together.

Two nights before Christmas the kids gave Brian their gifts. Since the gifts were living, they didn’t put them under the tree. Each of the kids bought Brian a fish and as he released the fish into their new home, again we gathered around the tank. Again we were together, enjoying life.