Wandering through my own mind

Sometimes I just sort of meander through the many random swirls of thought in my brain and wonder if any of them will ever un-swirl and become fully formed ideas, or even (gasp) actions. That's the big sticking point for me, always. To move from thought or intention to action. I don't think I ever learned how one does such a thing. No, that's not true, I know exactly how to to do it if it is for someone else's benefit; especially someone who doesn't live here. It's very backward when I really stop to think about it.

My house gets clean and tidy because someone is coming over, not because my family deserves a comfortable living space. I sew or write or bake because someone needs a gift or asked for my help, not because it feeds my soul to create. I cook and clean up spills and do laundry laundry laundry because I get hungry and dirty and goodness knows the kids do too. But not because I love to see them eat, or enjoy teaching them how to keep their own homes neat and homey someday. If I really stop to think, and wonder and process I simply cannot understand myself.

I don't know what it all means or how it should change or why it even matters. For me, knowing what things mean and why they matter are the catalysts for change. So to sort through it all is critical, if I want to become a me who can bless my family with not just words, but the work of love too. The housekeeping, clothes washing, yard upkeep kinds of love that help my children learn it's good and satisfying to work hard for those you love. I don't think I'm teaching them that very well and I'm ashamed. I'm embarassed when I hear Kid say "That sounds too hard, why do I have to?" Or when they leave their toys and clothes strewn about and uncared for instead of putting them away. Or assume they can just carelessly ruin and break things and then have them immediately and painlessly replaced. No effort, no struggle, no waiting. And I know this is kids and they are learning the world and that's my job as their mother. To teach them the waiting and the effort and the struggling and I try. Bob tries. We pray and we wake up every day and try again and that struggle is surely part of our growth just as picking up their toys is part of theirs. And still they act so entitled some days. So sure of material comfort without condition. And so I'm embarrassed again. Not for them, for me. At my own laziness and apathy. I've been given this 1 life to live, and somehow seeing them not care about the mess or be willing to help clean it up without prodding makes me sure I'm failing. Failing them, failing me, failing the world at large. There are things I should be doing to teach them these lessons and I'm not and I don't know why.

I am falling into my own head with these thoughts sometimes and it isn't helping and I'm back to wondering again how to move from thinking to doing. I want to be a doer when it comes to love and not just a talker. I just don't know how. So I wade back into those swirling eddy thoughts and I swing a fishing net through them and try to pluck them up and sort them out. And I'll keep trying until I get it right. One of these days this struggle will ease and then I suppose different one will take its place. Because this is a journey and I can't be on a journey if I don't keep moving. . .

Right?

I hate unresolved internal conversations. Perhaps I should stop posting so many of them.