I want a full and perfectly shinyshinyshiny life that includes a cookie (or 3), naps and several episodes of Scandal.
(Have you seen the way Fritz grabs Olivia? Be still my womanly heart….)
I don’t want to eat an entire package of Pinwheels. (Don’t judge.)
I don’t want to spend 4 hours numbingly refreshing Facebook.
I don’t want to binge on resentment and fear and call everyone I know to tell them what that bitch did this time.
But I do those things sometimes. Not that much. I do them some. Yet I love my life. My beautiful, crazy, messy, shinyshinyshiny life.
You should see us in The Yostram. It’s not exactly the pod of serene sunlit bliss that I imagined for myself.
This morning, David sat on the bed to wake Lula and I. He woke me first and we had a conversation about self worth. No small talk around here. We go deep, fast. Inherent worth from our first waking breath.
I woke Lula by rubbing her cheek, calling her Kooky, my name for her. Then she laid her long body over mine to snuggle into David. This, I said, pointing at Lula. This tells me there’s nothing wrong with us. Never was. Never will be. It’s so easy to see how precious she is. We are, each of us, just as precious.
When I slept too late again to meditate first thing. When we didn’t want to get up so we snuggled too long and left the house later than we should have. When Lula said she didn’t even want breakfast. Even though I heard a very official voice in my head telling me not to skip the most important meal of the day, I thought, fuck it. Let’s see how this goes. When I laid there an extra 15 minutes checking email on my phone.
Our bed is surrounded by shoes (mine) that haven’t been put away. There are 2 huge piles of clean clothes that I’ve worn or considered but discarded there instead of hanging them back up. My bedside lamp scratches the finish of my nightstand but I keep telling myself the lie that I’ll just be careful and not move it instead of actually doing something about it.
Lots of imperfect crappiness. Mess, laziness, bad habits.
But in the middle of all of that was this moment where the three of us laid together, completely sure of our worth and loved each other.
That. I would take that any goddamn day. Regardless of the rest of it.
I used to think I had to get my bad habits sorted out and then I would feel better. My clients are always believing that they have to get over____ so they can be happy.
They have to quit being so disorganized.
Quit sleeping so late.
Because all of those things are energy drains. I won’t lie. I don’t look at the piles of clothes in some kind of ohm driven bliss.
None of that had to be squared away to Love so deeply and feel so grateful this morning. And happy.
Isn’t that the point of all of this
self improvement life improvement?