I have a million things in my head but my mind is fuzzy and I’m tired.  And all I want is to feel better and be able to do yoga or just get sweaty but I can barely function and I’m so frustrated and so effing tired.

Starting again.

I’m super type A.  I’m a competitor.  One time, in middle school, I went on a bible study trip with a friend of mine.  (I was not in bible study – our family did not go to church.  But I was drawn to it, fascinated by it.  Constantly curious).  The trip consisted of biking and then rafting.  I’d tell you where or the distance … or any of those things.  But I can’t remember them.  I remember biking, but mostly I remember the rafting.  For a couple reasons.  First, I was crazily competitive and our raft was often far ahead of the other rafts.  (To me, this was excellent.  To those who wanted camaraderie and friendship and shared memories and who understood that life is not always a race … not so much).  Second, we ended up getting pinned between the raft and a large boulder and it took every ounce of strength not to get sucked under the water.  It came about because we were so far in the lead we headed to the shore before the landing point and then had to navigate back out onto the river.  Anyway.  I learned lessons that day.  And it has forever stayed burned in my memory.  Because one of the camp counselors (bible study group leaders?) lectured me about competitiveness and reading the situation.  That winning was not always the thing … sometimes, winning was actually the opposite of the thing.  That we missed out on a lot of fun because we were so focused on ‘winning.’ And we (ironically) went on to learn that lesson very painfully when fighting powerful currents and trying to stay above water.

Anyway, I tell this story because it comes up a lot in my steam of conscious thought.  Because I am super competitive.  And sometimes I lose sight of the fact that life isn’t actually a race or a checklist.  That life is a journey and every moment should be savored.

Perhaps not specifically this moment of being sick on the couch, still fighting a fever with poison ivy blisters dotting my forehead in a snake-like line from my eyebrows to my hair line.  But that’s not exactly the point.

There are things to be learned in this moment.  And there is so much to be appreciated in all the other moments.  Friendships and discussions and learning and growing.  We are all gifted this one precious life — what will each of us do with it?

I worry that I am not doing enough, I am not reaching my potential.  But what is potential exactly?  A societal ladder that we are all encouraged to climb as high as we can?  Could potential equate to more than momentary gain and professional accomplishments?

I don’t know.  I’m just one human.  Perhaps I don’t have the power to change the script for everyone.  Perhaps I only have the power to recognize that I need to change the script for me.  That my potential doesn’t have to fit into a neat box of societally accepted achievements.  But it’s hard to remember that.  It’s hard to get up and look around at the world and remember that this one life, MY one life, should only be lived for me.  Not anyone else.  Not any other approval.

So if I don’t win awards or publish books or sit on Oprah’s couch discussing philosophy … it’s still okay.  I’ve still understood the assignment.

Xox, g