Notes for a Better Day
I've been going through my archives and cleaning things out. I came across this old post and it hit home again, so I wanted to post it again. Old patterns are hard to break sometimes, and this is the great thing about keeping a journal. When you find yourself in the same cycle, it's a little easier to recognize it as a cycle because you find yourself writing the same things again and again, and therefore it's easier to break it. Here's to moving forward in abundance.
I stayed up late last night just to have some silence. I should have been working on a blog post but I was reading instead. The book was good, but not spectacular. I kept stopping to listen to the silence. It felt weighted; it felt anticipated.
No, that wasn't the silence, that was me. I kept thinking, I should get up. And, I should go to bed. I really wanted to be working on a blog post but I literally felt rooted to the sofa. I don't think I could've gotten up.
Well, eventually I did get up, but what I did was make a cup of tea, and then I sat back down. I sat there and read until I finished my book and even then I didn't want to go to bed. What a waste of time, sleep.
When I did go to bed it was 1 a.m. I lie in the dark wondering at my discontent as the furnace winds down and the house really becomes silent. My husband breathing so deeply in sleep, me wishing sleep would come. The warmth of the heat settling and the house again cooling with ticks and creaks. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
I woke at 6 a.m. determined to have a better day. Determined to get my work-out done right away so I could be showered and dressed before I get the kids up. I wonder at people who wake and work-out first thing. What do they do with the sleep in their eyes? I like to have a glass of water, a hot shower and a nice outfit to make me feel like me; I like to be clean and fresh.
I contemplate showering now and working out later and wonder if I could still have a good day doing it that way when my two year old starts screaming like he stubbed his toe and slammed his finger in the door simultaneously. At six a.m.
This raincloud comes out of nowhere, positions it's wrath over my head, and proceeds to down pour and flash lightening on me as I storm to his room. All thoughts of hot showers and sweaty cycling become lost in the mud as I console my son. The last thing I need is for the whole house to be awake. (We live right by school so I don't usually get my kids up until 7:15)
I end up sitting on the sofa with a snoring kid (did he even wake up?!). Well, I thought, It has come to this. Then I sighed and scowled and thought about getting up and doing...what? I look down at this sweet boy and wonder how he can have nightmares.
He is so sweet. His hair so soft under my chin. I squeeze him a little bit and in his sleep he pushes at me. So, It has come to this. I sigh again, wishing I could dose off. Wishing the house would lighten already, the way it does when the sun sneaks her way into the day. But it doesn't. It stays dark until after the other kids are up.
At what point do the mundane things of every day start to unravel your life? It is so important to take care of yourself. I forget to until I start having days like yesterday. It has come to this, me yelling instead of talking (mostly in my head). Stomping around trying to avoid this rain cloud but somehow it keeps catching up to me, dousing me again.
What can I learn from this, I wonder. What am I doing wrong today? I pull out my planner and I read my values. Everything is so perfect on paper. My life on lines. Here I am living between the lines and in the margins and on scraps of paper falling off my desk and on the floor. And then all the sudden I realize what is bothering me.
I have this blog because I love to write. I want to write; it's the fire in my belly. But I am afraid of disappointing you readers. I love sharing what I write, but please, lose all expectations from me, and enjoy what comes, when it comes. And thank you, for reading.
So what I've learned is to keep putting myself out there, no matter how scared I might feel. Three years ago I was so worried about publishing a blog post. Now I'm onto the next phase, but that fear is still there. What if no one likes what I have to offer? How this gets in the way of my everyday life. Pay attention to those things, they matter to you, and you are important. Do not sweep them under the rug. Take them out and sit with them, examine them, feel them. And then you can go beyond them, to the next best version of you.