Today, however, I'm reflecting on the usefulness of some old scripts. I was about 5 or 6 when my mother taught my sister and me to make our beds. It was to be done just so. It was to be done every morning. This was what good people (or at least good little girls) do. We also brush our teeth and change our underwear.
After my husband died and the world seemed so totally changed, I found myself trying to make sense of things I do by habit. Why do I change the bed and put two pillowcases on, when only one person is sleeping there? Who cares if I eat balanced meals? Why go to bed after the news? (I never questioned changing the underwear, in case you're worried.) But I did lean pretty heavily on those rules. There was a comfort in having structure, structure that was familiar and that had been imposed by people whose authority I recognized. I didn't need to analyze every little thing in rebuilding my life; even rules that didn't make much sense could stay in place, at least for now. So I have been rather strict with myself--today, for instance, is change the cat box day, and I will when I finish this post.
I'm also re-evaluating some of the scripts. I think I can learn to draw and I'm going to make an effort. My ears are just fine. My meals are sort of balanced most of the time. I can change some of my roles, I can do things without the permission of others. As time goes on, I'm sure I'll confront other scripts and decide whether to edit them. As the photo below demonstrates, however, I'm still a good girl.