Thursday, August 16, 2012

A Mess, Just Like the Rest

   Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have such a naturally happy and well behaved child. Sometimes it doesn't occur to me that not all women feel comfortable talking to their husbands about their fears and insecurities. That some husbands make their wives feel scared instead of safe. Often times I don't acknowledge how decadent it really is that we each have our own car and phone and computer. In comparison... to pretty much everywhere else in the world. Sometimes I take for granted that the people in my life know that I love them. I don't make a point of telling them just how much, and why. Sometimes I get irritated over the most asinine things. Like the fact that my kid knocked the mouse onto the floor as he climbed up onto the couch so that he could be attached to my hip while he ate his Bunny Grahams and watched yet another episode of Veggitales. Didn't he know that I was trying to write? Doesn't he get that this is my calling? Sometimes I let the TV take over. Sometimes I forget to brush my teeth until 2pm (yes, I know, gross).

   Other times I feel like I've got all of my ish together. Feel accomplished because I got dressed even though I knew I wouldn't be leaving the house that day. I write and read and exercise and cook meals that my son actually consumes, and all within a 24 hour time span. Sometimes my makeup matches my outfit and every once in an incredibly long time my underwear matches my bra. There are times when my house is clean and my fridge is stocked and there is no junk food in sight. Days in a row in which we play outside instead of staying cooped up inside. When I meet up with friends and family. Days when I remember to pray on purpose.

   But most of the time I'm pretty close to what some people would call a mess. Most of the time I'm selfish and lazy and completely, totally unaware. I think that truth be told, most of us are. And that's ok so long as we never stop...

   Never stop trying to be the person we know we will someday be capable of being. The one we see in our heads when the negative voice pauses to breathe in before continuing on in it's tirade of self humiliation. The person we actually are when we forget about all the messiness and instead choose to inhabit the wealth of the life that we were given to live.

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