When needing less is not more
Steph gives us a glimpse into the relationship she's developing with her main character, as well as a work-in-progress piece that's bound to raise a few hackles.
Hello love,
This month’s challenge was about declarations— what you’re working on, in which ways you’d like to show up, how you’re engaging with yourself and your creativity. Steph thought it might be interesting to take the challenge to Liv, the main character of her book. So, one morning while sitting on the back deck drinking coffee together – they’ve been doing that lately - Steph turned to Liv and said, “Back when you were living out the story that I’m just now translating and documenting for you, how were you showing up for yourself? What energies were you engaging with?”
Liv leaned in. “Girl,” she said, “you better open up your laptop and start typing. Cuz before I tell you how I engaged with myself, you need a scene of my disengagement. You ready?”
Read on for the words Steph captured.
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When Less is Not More
Liv was making her way down the stairs to the study when she heard it— a quiet but volitional voice cutting through all the others in her head.
“I know what to do,” it said.
Ooooooooh, Liv thought, leaning in for more. Her attention, momentarily rapt. She had no idea how she was going to get through the next handful of months, so the sudden discovery that there existed a wise-woman living inside of her who did— what a relief!
Go on, she encouraged, as she transferred her crutches into her right hand so she could grab the banister with her left. She still hadn’t mastered maneuvering staircases yet, and even though this one was small - only two or three steps - she was moving tentatively. She made her first hop from the top step, braced herself for impact, and listened as the voice continued.
“I’ll need less,” it said.
Liv paused. Her head instinctively whipping around, looking for the person who uttered such words.
“You’ll do whaaaaaat?” she said out loud. “That’s your plan!?! In the very moment you need more, your plan is to “need less”? Oh no,” she said. “No, you will not nee….”
Ted’s voice called out from the other room— a blunt interruption to the fight Liv was about to have with herself.
“Who are you talking to, Liv?” he yelled. “You probably shouldn’t go down the stairs and be on the phone at the same time.”
“Oh, just myself,” she said. “I’m talking to myself.”
“Okay, Funny Bunny,” he shouted. “Just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Do you though? Liv thought as she thudded, gingerly so, down the remaining two steps. Once at the bottom, she crutched her way into the study, pulled the fitted and flat sheets she had been carrying out from under her arm, and tossed them on the daybed. She turned, crutched her way out of the room, and headed back to the staircase— she still had to get a pillow and the duvet from the laundry room.
This will be so much better than sleeping upstairs, Liv thought as she hobbled past Ted’s office, the sound of a movie pouring out from the door. Two or three little hops as opposed to two flights of stairs up to the primary bedroom will be so much more do-able.
She wedged the pillow between her body and her right crutch, wrapped the duvet around her neck like that scarf Lenny Kravitz wore in 2012, and went back to the study for what would be her final bed-making lap. The combination of the efforting, plus perimenopause in general, plus the fact that Liv was now wearing a goose-down duvet as a scarf because she had no hands to carry it, meant she was a sweaty mess by the time she got to the bed. She shrugged the duvet off as quickly as she could, chucked her crutches down on top of it, and like only a flamingo could, she perched on one leg, spun as gently as possible and (in her mind) crossed her fingers, hopping her ass would hit the day bed instead of the ground.
I did it! she thought with relief as she sat for a brief moment of rest.
From there, she leaned over, rolled onto her stomach, slid onto the ground so that she was “standing” on my knees, and proceeded to make the bed.
As she was smoothing out the duvet cover and fluffing her own pillow, Liv’s thoughts drifted back to the voice on the staircase.
Need less?!?, she thought with a harrumph. Yeah…we’re not doing that.
Ted’s voice interrupted again. She heard him call her name, but given the volume on the movie he was playing, she couldn’t grasp the rest. “Liv?” he called out again. “What do you wan-“
“What?” she yelled back, seeking clarity.
“What do you want . . . “
What do I want? she wondered. Is he asking me what I want?
“Wait a sec,” she yelled, pushing herself from the ground and gathering her crutches. “I can’t hear you.”
When Liv got to Ted’s office, she peeked her head around the door. “Hey,” she said. “I couldn’t hear you. What were you saying?”
“I was asking what you want for dinner.”
“Oh,” she said. “I don’t know. What do you want?”
“I want to order in from that Mexican place,” he said.
“Great, we’ll do that. I’ll give them a call.
Ted winked at Liv. “Thanks, Bunny,” he said, before watching her hobble out of his office.
We’re curious . . . full context of the storyline aside, do you relate to Liv? Pop into the comments and tell us what this stirs up for you.
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Ooh I feel this. Partially because I’m a woman in a relationship with a man, but also because I’m a stage manager. Stage managers do all the things, with little help, usually getting things done before other folks realize they need to be done and therefore long before help is offered. *sigh*
I totally relate ….. It’s like so many scenarios I am or have been “LIV”ing….
My mom did everything when I was growing up, seemed to constantly anticipate and accommodate everyone’s needs.
I remember waking up in my thirties, my husband leaving for work and asking, what’s for dinner tonight and I was thinking, I would like to have someone answer that question for me.
Who decided that at 6 am each morning, I would psychically divine what everyone in the house wants to eat at 5:30 pm? Who made these rules?
It took me a few years to notice all the ways I was anticipating and accommodating everyone’s needs to my own detriment.
All the realization ended up fueling this volcanic rage that took another few years to peter out as I set new boundaries and redefined what it means for me to be me (just me outside all the other versions) and then me - a wife, a mom, a daughter and sister. Those around me got better at accommodating my needs, once I realized what they were and expressed them.
Can’t wait to see how Liv begins to define and set her own boundaries. I love that her inner wise-woman told her I’ll need less and the universe had placed her in crutches so physically she would be able to do less as a scene unfolds in which she is doing so much. 😊