Posted in adventure, faith, family, Goals, Life, Musings, random, travel, Uncategorized

On My Way!

Well, I’m not really on my way- not quite yet, anyway. This time tomorrow morning, I will already be at the airport with Cam, at our gate, waiting to board our flight. But you and I both know our vacations start well before we ever walk out the door of our homes. My brain has been in vacation mode all week, work nothing more than a bothersome distraction.

Does this mean I’ve been busy packing and preparing? Well…no. Just by virtue of the fact that I know I need to do a bunch of stuff, I have felt less inclined to do any of it. I have gotten all of our laundry done. I finally started packing our suitcases last night. I have dishes to do and one last Target run to pick up the final items I absolutely have to have with me for this trip- like those little tubes of freeze dried Starbucks instant coffee? Those are 100% necessary when staying in a hotel with questionable coffee availability and family who do not wake up anywhere near as early as you do. So, I need those. I need at least one new phone charger as all of mine seem to have stopped working this week. I really need a new fitbit band, but I’m hoping this one will hold up at least until I get where I am going. But I might see if they have one at Target, I don’t know.

Anyway you crack it, I will be somewhere in San Francisco tonight, sleeping in the first of a series of unfamiliar beds, and the adventure will begin.

This morning, I sat on my cushion for my normal prayer and meditation, and I set my intention for this day and this trip. Gratitude that this is my life now- I am a person who can plan a trek across the country and follow through. I can have confidence in myself, for I am capable, smart, and strong. I will be patient, with myself and others, knowing we are all doing the best we can at any given moment. And I will enjoy myself, basking in the love I have for my family, and that they have for me, as we embark on this adventure together.

Am I nervous? I would not be me if I weren’t, but…I trust that all will be well. So, Bon Voyage, my friends! I’ll catch up with you all when I am in Maine- I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to write while I wait for everyone else to wake up!

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Posted in happiness, inner peace, Learning, Life, Musings, random, spirit, spirituality, Uncategorized

Rivers

the way you carry it
Here’s a good summary of what I was trying to say, except it took me like a 1000 words. Sigh. 🙂

In my mind, there are several rivers of thought-distinct rivers all travelling in the same direction, with miles of space between them. In one river are all the earthly thoughts about who I am- the criticisms, the judgments, the pain, the memories, and all the debris and murkiness picked up over a lifetime of living. In the next river, there is the brisk and frigid water of this modern life- societal expectations, the stress of keeping up, the teeming rapids of work, sleep, tasks…the rush of one day careening into the next as time rushes by faster and faster while months and years pass. The third river of thought is older than time itself, much older than the other two. You can tell because it is neither muddy nor rushed, but it flows downstream peacefully, knowing it will always arrive where it is meant to be, that nothing can stop it. Though this river has always been here, it is hard for me to get to. I have spent most of my time being swept away by the other two, and by countless other streams and puddles and creeks that branch off of them. I find that the third river is difficult to reach sometimes, and though I love it most of all, it’s the hardest one to stay at. I am forever being pulled away, sucked back into the muddy waters of one, or the furious pace of the other.

I am not judging this experience, I am simply explaining it in a way that makes sense to me. Have you observed something similar in your own life? Because this is the best illustration for the layers of my unfolding life that I can come up with. There is the emotional and mental aspect, there is the physical, human aspect, and then there is the eternal, spiritual aspect.

In my short-sighted, human way, I have been struggling against the same exact issues since the very beginning of this blog. I suspected that was true when I started questioning the originality of my posts lately. It was confirmed when I took a little walk down memory lane this morning, and saw myself writing about the same feelings, the same moods, the same ideas- with slight variations, of course- over and over. The reason I find this more funny than alarming is a direct result of this spiritual hurricane season I have personally been going through, trying, inadequately, to convey here.

You see, I have been afraid and resentful of the muddy river of my emotions. I have allowed myself to get beat up by the debris of bad memories and sucked under by the weight of my own judgement. I’ve struggled to swim against the current, trying to go back and make sense of it all, not realizing that none of it matters, the past is GONE. This water only goes one way, and all along it’s been trying to move me forward, farther and farther away from those things. I’ve been fighting so hard in this river when all I ever needed to do was let it move me along. All I ever needed to do was let go.

And this cold river over here? The one that sounds like a thousand clamoring voices and all their opinions and expectations? I have been right out in the middle of that river, tumbling end over end, but no matter how fast I went, I never got anywhere. I can’t really get out of this river, not completely. But you know what? I found out that I can stay out of the middle where the rapids are, and along the edges, things move more slowly. I don’t have to keep up with anyone else to be happy- in fact, the opposite is true. The more I focus on just my life, and the people in it, the better I feel.

River number three, that nirvana where we all come from? We aren’t supposed to live there, I don’t think. Not all the time, not while we are earth-bound in these skin suits. That would be nice, but it wouldn’t teach us nearly as much about being people as the other two rivers (and all the other figurative bodies of water we cross, tides we get swept away in, currents that pull on us) do. We all have our own rivers. We all have to learn from them.

I have spent the bulk of my life in these waters and never named them or saw them for what they are. And because of that, I have fought and struggled and nearly drowned, yet never gained an inch. Every time my head breaks the surface and I get to take a breath, I’m in the same spot. I know this sounds grim, but I’m smiling as I write these words. I can break this cycle now and move on.

As long as I am a human being, I will continue to have human issues. I am here for a reason. I have been through what I’ve been through for a reason. The people in my life are here on purpose. That is all I need to know, which means the past can be forgiven, the pain can be released, and I can let go. I don’t need to be afraid.

As long as I need a roof over my head and food in my cupboards, I will have to participate, at the very least, in my own survival. But I don’t have to throw myself into the chaos completely. I do have some say in how much I allow myself to be swept up in the craziness. I can turn off the news, step away from social media, keep my consumption of bullshit low. Listen to my own voice, and let it guide me.

Releasing my fear of the first river, and learning to find my place in the second, I expect that there will be much more peace, much more time that I can choose to spend contemplating river number three. Who knows? Perhaps one day I’ll find the place where they converge. Now wouldn’t that be something?

 

 

Posted in Blogging, entertainment, escape, happiness, inner peace, Life, Musings, People, pop culture, random, social media, spirituality, Uncategorized

Opting Out

Riding on the tails of yesterday’s post, I want to share with you that one of the most troublesome offenders of polluting my mental space and making me feel…Jesus, all sorts of unpleasant things…has been Facebook. This is not big news. I have posted about it time and time again, I’m pretty sure. (Like I said, I’ve had this blog forever, I honestly have no idea anymore what I’ve posted and what I’ve simply thought about. But I know I’ve posted at least once about this.)

It isn’t really Facebook’s fault. The responsibility for my troubled relationship with that social media platform is solely mine. I mean, I think so, anyway. The thing is, I spent way too much time there. WAY, WAY too much. Every spare second I had, it seemed like, I was reflexively tapping that little blue square on my phone, scrolling, scrolling, refreshing, scrolling. Leading up to the last election, I really spiraled out of control. I jumped on the political posting bandwagon, and flooded my feed (and everyone else’s) with meme after meme of Republican bashing, Trump bashing, right leaning bullshit news clips. I fought like hell to get my point across, to verbally destroy anyone who didn’t agree with me. I was rabid in my outrage. More than one friend unfollowed me. A few blocked me.

Guess what? Trump won anyway. After that, it was months of disbelief, horror, commiserating with like-minded friends, arguing with those who disagreed. More often than not, it would devolve into name calling and real hurt feelings. I blocked my own mother more than one time. Guess how much of a difference any of it made? How much good it did? Not a bit.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything political. I just don’t have the energy anymore. I suppose I’ve kind of accepted that this is the shit sandwich we’ve been served, and though it may be all that’s offered, I don’t have to sit at the table and eat it. I’m just over here, working on me, I guess. So, no more Trump stuff. Fine. I’ll just focus on the other stuff.

Well, that wasn’t working out anymore, either. I joined a lot of groups aligned with my specific interests- some connected to podcasts I love, a few ADHD related ones, a GOT one, of course. I can tell you honestly that there was not one single day in recent months where being on Facebook brought me more happiness than it did disgust.

People cannot spell. How that is possible with spell-check, I do not understand, but it is a real problem. People are anxious and depressed and suicidal, and Facebook is where they go to discuss it. People have health problems, and Facebook is where they go to discuss it. People hate the finale of Game of Thrones, and Facebook is where they go to talk shit about the writers and demand a do-over. People are upset about everything. Every. Fucking. Thing. And Facebook is where they go to discuss it. The place we go to complain and it feels like something was actually accomplished, when in fact, usually, it means nothing.

My feed was filled with memes I’ve been seeing for ten years, “woke” people getting offended and clutching their precious outrage to their chests as if it were heirloom pearls, cryptic, vague posts from attention seeking souls, preaching about veganism, preaching about the Keto diet, pictures of rashes with “does anyone know what this is?” attached, and like…maybe four pictures of my friends new baby (which I love) and an actually funny or insightful post from one or two friends.

I’m not saying I’m not guilty. Oh boy, am I! I’ve gotten better over time, but it’s definitely been a learning curve. My Facebook “memories” that pop up daily have some humiliating little gems. I am just as bad as the next guy- sometimes even worse.

Oh, Lord. My blood pressure is up just talking about it! I’m not even joking. So clearly, it’s no longer a healthy outlet for me. Plus, here I am, in the midst of all this spiritual shit, trying so hard not to judge myself or others, and…Facebook is never, ever gonna allow that shift to happen. Maybe when I’m more advanced or something? I don’t know. But at this time, I recognize that I have no business poking around there. It brings nothing to my life. It makes me feel terrible.

And so, the other day, without even thinking it over, I just deactivated my account. I didn’t flounce, I didn’t announce, I didn’t say shit to anyone. I just bounced. And the relief was immediate. I’m choosing to opt out of things that make me feel yucky. Things that cause me to have unkind thoughts that therefore make me feel guilty or shitty. I wondered briefly if friends would think I blocked them, but then I realized if they are really my friends, they can always call me. Or send me a message. Most likely, they won’t even notice or care.

I don’t need more opinions clamoring for attention in my head. I don’t need to constantly wonder if my humor is offensive, or if I’m a good enough parent, or if something I’ve said will be taken the wrong way. I don’t want to open myself up to being schooled by someone who thinks they know so much more than me, but in reality, simply has a different idea of the world. I don’t want it. I want out. I want out of all of that malarkey. So I left. It was simple as that.

Will I go back? I don’t know. Not anytime soon, I don’t think. I’m looking forward to thinking for myself, eating in a restaurant without checking in, avoiding the court of public opinion and overbearing political correctness. I want to be in a quieter world, with real life people who aren’t experiencing the rush of digital bravery only a keyboard provides. Facebook encourages and rewards false living, fake thinking, pretend empathy, and real meanness. I can’t seem to moderate my consumption, or get on board with the status quo…so I’m opting out.

Sorry, I just really needed to get that out. I feel better now. 🙂

Posted in adventure, happiness, inner peace, Learning, Life, manifestation, Musings, People, spirit, spirituality, Uncategorized

Two Days Later

It’s been two days since my regression, and…I thought it was all over with. Cool experience, some doubting that experience, gleaned some interesting insights, obviously cannot stop thinking about it.

But life goes on right? Went back to work yesterday, had the longest, most painfully awful day…I couldn’t tell you why it felt that way if I tried, but I felt that I was genuinely suffering. Forced myself to run some errands last night, battled with myself the whole way through. Made a nice dinner for Cam and I, stressing throughout the process. Sat down feeling resentful and unappreciated and…just mad. Woke up this morning, rushed through our routine feeling like a frazzled drill sergeant-‘why is she so slow?!’ ‘why does she pull this crap every day?’ ‘I’m so SICK of this shit!’- Basically my internal monologue. Pleasant, right?

I’m honestly in tears right now, writing this out. Because it hit me, like a two-ton weight just now, that I AM DOING IT AGAIN. Just like HER. Petulant, spoiled, determined to grouse and complain and never, ever feel like anything is good enough. I know how crazy this whole thing sounds- I mean, it has to, right? But it feels so, so important and real and obvious to me right now. The clarity with which I am suddenly seeing the parallels…well, I guess I couldn’t have possibly seen them prior to the regression, of course, but seeing it now…wow.

I know I struggle with gratitude. I connect with it at times, but other times- long, bleak stretches of time- I can’t get there. I have an incredible life. I’m not even going to go into all the ways that it is so good, because I don’t want to get bogged down in making a list that I’ve made a hundred times before. It doesn’t even matter. What matters is that I know it, and that I feel it, and that I realize what a goddamn miracle I am. I stacked the odds against myself right out of the gate- I did everything I could do to make my life hard, and I fought myself- not anyone else, ME- to get back on track again.

I have been on the receiving end of more chances, more forgiveness, more blessings and grace and luck than anyone will ever know. I don’t know why, I have no answer for that. But I know that it is true. So how in the HELL am I still sitting here, complaining? Feeling mad? Hating my job that has given me a life I could not have dreamed up because my mind wasn’t capable of thinking that abundantly. Stomping my way through Target on my strong, capable, healthy legs, mad that my beautiful, curious, funny child won’t stop bothering me. Upset because…because why? Just what is it that I want? What is it that is wrong?

I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to that. Probably because there isn’t one. There is not one good reason for me to be anything other than content. And right now I am feeling really ashamed of myself. Or maybe that’s not right, either. I think I just feel sad for myself. That I let myself wind up here. After seeing that other life…another blessed woman, another person who couldn’t be pleased. I know how that story ended. I don’t want this story to go that way.

My buddy Cinamon sent me a text last night, after reading my last post. She wanted to know if I thought my life would change now that I had seen what I’d seen. My immediate reaction was “NO.” I didn’t say that, but it’s what I thought. “I don’t need to change, I can’t change, why would I change?” were the defensive, knee-jerk reaction answers that bubbled up. But it isn’t true. I can change, and I HAVE to change, or my life will be sour and empty and sad. I am sure this sounds super melodramatic, but I promise you, it is the truth. You know me here, what I write, what I choose to share. Or even if we are friends in real life, there’s a good chance you have very little idea what my inner life is like. I have made a hobby of dissatisfaction, and I’m so…difficult. Even with myself. The closer you are to me, the more you know I speak the truth. And it’s such a waste of time. It’s so dumb.

I have no idea how to stop being this way. I am pretty sure it’s not just going to go away without a bit of a struggle. But I can’t unsee what my soul chose to show me, and I can’t un-know the truths that are being revealed. I asked for this, I prayed for it, even. It was given to me for a reason…so that maybe I could have a chance to do better this time around. I sure didn’t expect for all of this to come up, but here it is. I guess I have some work to do.

That regression opened up something that wants to stay open. It’s not scary or anything, but it’s pretty fucking real.  Thoughts are popping into my head that are not the kinds of things I normally think…it’s like, my voice, but instructions: “Just do everything with love. Whatever it is, do it with love.” That’s a pretty good one. There are others, but I’ll wait. This is already a lot. If you made it through all this, bless you. I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I’ll definitely be sharing whatever it is.

Posted in Addiction, Depression, faith, happiness, inner peace, Life, Musings, People, random, Uncategorized

Kindness

kindness

Once upon a time, I was a very, very messed up young lady. Not messed up in the everyday, average, run-of-the-mill way I am now. I’m not talking about depression or anxiety this time, which I seem to suffer from in a very “normal” way, judging by the lives and comments from my friends. I don’t know many people who make it to this age in life without some baggage, vague mental illness, and/or flat out jadedness. I’m not saying this is a good or even acceptable thing, I’m just saying…it’s kind of part of the deal.

What I’m talking about here is my “former life”. The life I began at 19, the part where I wound up on drugs for such a long time. When I tell you that I was bad, I need you to believe me. There were no days off, not if I could help it. I lived, breathed and existed for my drugs. It was my life. I wish that it weren’t true, but facts are facts.

What I don’t often talk about is the kindness that was shown to me through those years. The people who saw something more in me, something good, and gave me chances, reached out a hand, tried to help. There are more kind and giving people in this world than you would ever imagine, if you have never needed help the way I used to.

I was homeless, periodically, many times throughout those years. And yet I never once had to sleep in my car- not ever. My friends would take me in for various lengths of time, never asking for for anything in return. I was always fed when I was hungry, I always managed to have a pack of cigarettes, I never remember feeling afraid or having nowhere to go. I was asked to house-sit, invited to stay over. My clothes got washed, I showered. I honestly don’t know how I got so lucky, but I always felt that I was. Even in the worst of times, I recognized that my life could be so much worse.

Did I disappoint people? Oh, yes. Regularly. The remorse I feel for the people I let down is almost a living thing, sometimes. It’s better now that I’ve made something of my life. I don’t feel it so acutely, with the passage of time. When I think about those years of my life, it honestly feels like I am viewing the memories of another person…someone I could never possibly have been, except that I was. I took advantage, overstayed my welcome, pilfered change from pockets, ate food that wasn’t meant for me. I was given jobs that I casually didn’t show up for, and borrowed money I could never pay back. In short, I was kind of a nightmare. Looked like a sweet kid, behaved like a monster.

And still…people helped me. My friend Debbie, who I’ve lost track of over the years, replaced my headlights when she was scraping by on a waitresses salary. The number of nights I spent in her apartment, blasting Aretha Franklin and driving her nuts, I couldn’t count. A lady named Suzi that I worked with asked me to “house-sit” for her every time she left town, knowing what a risk I was. People rolled the dice on me all the time, and I was not a safe bet. But I’ve never forgotten. I have never forgotten the kindnesses I’ve been shown.

One time, I was at the welfare office in Nevada, in a desperate situation. I needed money, I needed food- at this time I had a small daughter, and I had waited too long to look for help. There was no way I was making rent. I had called the Catholic charities, I had tried to figure it out,  but things were dire. It was winter time, I remember that, and things were not looking good in that welfare office. It was harder to get help in Nevada than it had been in California, and I knew things weren’t going to work in my favor for once.

There was a woman working there…she was probably the age I am now, mid forties, a heavy-set black woman. She had this beautiful necklace on- a simple chain with this big, shiny, single rhinestone hanging from it. In the midst of all the bullshit I was spewing, wired out of my mind, I said “I really love your necklace.” Because I did. I will never, ever forget what happened next. She said “You know, I never wear this thing. I felt called to wear it this morning, and now I know why.” And she took it off her neck and handed it to me. She GAVE it to me.

You know, that meant something to me. It might have just been a little piece of costume jewelry, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, she did something incredibly kind in that moment. She made me feel worthy and special and less like that desperate, messed up young woman I was. I don’t know how to explain it. But it gave me a boost that I needed so much right then. I will never forget it. I still have that necklace, and I wish I could find that lady and tell her I turned out okay after all. She might not remember me, but I will always remember her.

Another time, and this story is very strange, I was at the beach- a beach I frequent, even to this day. I was at the end of my last run, really strung out, really miserable, feeling like I had reached the end of my rope. I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore…I had realized that no one was going to come along to save me, that I was going to have to rely on myself, and that thought terrified me. I just remember feeling incredibly down that day. The beach was nearly deserted, and out of nowhere, this woman approached me. She had on a skirt, I remember, a longish skirt, and she seemed out of place. She had a bag of sea glass with her, and she showed me her finds. I would guess she was in her fifties or sixties, and she seemed a little odd, though friendly enough. All of the sudden she told me she felt called to pray over me and asked if it was okay. Normally, this would have been SO not okay with me. But that day…I really needed it. It was the strangest thing. She held my hands, and she prayed for me, right there in broad daylight on that deserted beach. I get tears in my eyes just thinking about it. I never saw her again.

I don’t know where I am going with this, except…I’m just really grateful for the kindness I’ve been on the receiving end of over the years. I have hurt people and let them down, ripped them off and fucked them over. Yet I never saw the end of that kindness. It always kept coming, and always when I needed it most. I forget that sometimes- how kind people are when it matters most. Having been self-sufficient for so long now, relying on the news and social media to tell me how the world is, I let myself forget. But that’s not the truth, the things you see online, or on your phone. The truth is, people are mostly good, they want to help. I bet you know this about yourself. I bet you see it in others.

I would not be here without the kindness of strangers, the giving hearts of my friends. I know that much is true. Never stop reaching out, even when you think it’s a lost cause. You just never know the impact you might have on someone.

Posted in Blogging, fun, Goals, humor, Life, mindfulness, Musings, People, random, Uncategorized

Re-calibrating my Goals

food

Good morning!

So, here we are, close enough to mid-way through the first month of this beautiful, shiny new year…it’s been enough time for me to notice what just might not be working out as planned-as resolved, rather.

For instance, I vowed I would not eat fast food, not even once, in 2019. And that is going great! I have not had so much as a nibble off the end of a french fry, I swear it. But nowhere in that resolution does it go on to say: “however, I shall indiscriminately eat any and all things that are not nailed down, that are also not delivered via a drive-thru window.” I think the point of my resolution was to eat healthier in general, not just gorge on everything that was not fast food. I should have written that into the resolution. My brain is very literal. Anything that is not fast food has been game, and I am already seeing the effects of it.

Last Tuesday, I bought a box of cocoa-dusted truffles from Trader Joe’s. I paused long enough in front of the stack of boxes that it was obvious I was deliberating over whether or not this was a disastrous idea- proof that it was. I bought them anyway. I knew it was a bad idea, but I just didn’t care. I brought them home, and ate them all, one by one, over the course of the next few days. They were all gone by yesterday. And it’s not the worst thing in the world, I know that. It’s just so…unnecessary. So opposite of the way I am trying to go.

I ordered Hello Fresh, the vegetarian boxes, thinking that would be a healthy, fun way to incorporate more veggies into my diet, and keep me eating at home more. Well, I’ve been eating more veggies at home, for sure. But just because something is vegetarian does NOT make it low calorie. Especially when I’m the cook, and I’m adding extra butter and cream to everything, because it tastes so much better.

All of this to say- I need to start tracking my food again. I never wanted to, but I need to see the calories I’m consuming as I’m consuming them, because it’s too easy to pretend otherwise. I’d lost 7 pounds thanks to that awful medication I was on, and I gained every pound back already. This is not the direction I want to be headed. If it were seven pounds of muscle, that’d be great, but I can say with some certainty that it is NOT.

As far as the bulk of everything else I’d resolved to do? Eh, things are going okay…I feel like I could push myself harder, but then again, I always feel that way. The areas where I really have been shining are walking my dog daily- and therefore getting more exercise myself- and doing more around the house every day, which is a big win, but, judging by the way the house looks right now, not big enough. There are only so many hours in a day. I am not a miracle worker.

I still haven’t gone to the gym, and you know what? I really don’t want to go to the gym. I just do not want to go. I drove all the way out there yesterday for a yoga class, and wound up going shopping at Kohl’s instead. Came home, did some yoga privately in my living room. So I don’t know…I think I might just give up the membership. There is one class I really want to try before that happens, though, and if I like it, it could change everything.

In other news, things I did not resolve to do but am doing anyway, such as: my meditation practice is wonderful. Haven’t missed a day. My meeting attendance is up, which is a good thing. And I’ve been making lists of tasks to complete daily, and trying my hardest to get them done.

Two weeks in. My summary? Not terrible, but could definitely be better. I’m not giving up on myself yet, though. That’s the great thing about resolutions- you can make them at any time, change them at any time, reevaluate them and rearrange them. Moral of the story? Don’t give up! I’m not about to, and neither should you! How are your resolutions going, if you made some?

Posted in inner peace, Life, Mental Health, mindfulness, Musings, People, random, Uncategorized, women

Openings

It seems to me that there are specific times in my life where I inexplicably begin to feel better. I might not even be fully aware that I wasn’t feeling so great to begin with, but maybe the weight of living felt a little bit…heavier, I guess. Little things are harder. Daily life is gotten through, but joy seems just beyond my reach. I am just muddling through as best I can.

And then there are these openings- times when I wake up, and my heart is lighter, my energy is bubbling up, and life seems full of possibility again. This past weekend has been one such time, and I’m hoping it continues. I have no idea what brings them about, these openings- maybe it’s just some fluctuation in my brain chemistry. Maybe that cracked wisdom tooth I had pulled on Friday was causing me a lot more trouble than I was ever aware of. Maybe the stars just aligned. I do not know, I just know that I am grateful.

I see these shifts in me for what they are- great opportunities to get the ball rolling in the right direction again. These are the times when, if I take advantage of them, I can reconnect with the part of me that I enjoy the most. The part who goes on 6 a.m. beach adventures with her children, the me who opens up the blinds to let the light stream in, who sings while she cooks dinner. This is also the part of me who unflinchingly sorts through piles of old mail and ruthlessly cleans out the fridge until there is nothing left but a bottle of ketchup and one egg.

I am grateful for these times, but I know they do not last forever. They are gifts, and I am happy to receive them. I know that life is always a series of ebbs and flows, and my job is to learn how to ride the waves, however they show up. If I handle the easy, happy, good times right, perhaps the difficult times will be just a little easier. Perhaps. And if not, I know that there will be better times opening up for me again, down the road.

Have a beautiful week.