For two years, I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I posted “authentically” in various online spaces. I hosted a podcast. I wrote for other blogs. I did all of those things, and it was just … not me. Bits and pieces of it were. But the stuff that drained me was not balancing the stuff that invigorated me.
I am Democrat. You are Republican. Peace depends on me.
I am a woman, you are not; peace depends on me.
I am a Christian, you are not; peace depends on me.
In a recent Blue Bloods episode, Danny reveals a family pact the adults all made the day their children were born: We made the choice to bring you into the world. You didn't make the choice, we did. So a bargain was struck that day that you owe us nothing and we owe you everything.
He's right. We owe our children everything. …
Our Life Story is made up in fractions. However, since we forgot everything we learned in third grade math I think sometimes we get stuck and think that PART of our story is going to end up being our WHOLE story. But that's not the case. Basic math tells us that PARTS and WHOLES are very different, and that one piece does not define the whole pie.
I think sometimes we miss the point of life and its struggles. We are not meant to be comfortable all the time. Great things were not done by comfortable people living comfortable lives. I think sometimes we're unwilling to put up with something that's uncomfortable because we aren't willing to look past our own short sightedness. I think we complain too much instead of hunkering down and realizing that this ain't nothin' but a phase.
I have a small set of friends who are 10+ years older than me, some of them my parents' ages or close to it. ... The times I spend with them are some of my very favorite, and I'll tell you why -- they take their ten-to-thirty years on me and, without even knowing it, teach me how to gracefully grow into my 40s, 50s and 60s.
Maybe it sounds kind of simple, and maybe you’ve tried it, but maybe when things don’t go your way you can lift up and toss out that top layer and see what’s left. Maybe you can’t salvage exactly what you had planned, but maybe you can rearrange and make something new.
I tried all the old tricks - rubbing alcohol to dry it out, burning it off with a wet towel so hot I had to hold it with an oven mitt, cleaning the area multiple times a day. Yet, it prevailed. My so-sweet co-worker even asked me in an Arnold Schwarzenegger voice, "Is that a tum-ah on your nose?" When I said my nightly prayers, I actually asked for the thing to disappear overnight... welcome back to adolescence, I know.
