I was in contemplative mood yesterday.  Today felt like a ‘work’ day — so much accomplished but exhausted and with an empty brain.  I figured I’d share my IG story.

I have ups and downs on the journey of self-discovery.  But the days I feel completely at ease in the skin I’m in … those aren’t such bad days.

Xox, g

As I waited for this page to open up and finally allow me to type, a million things flew through my brain.  How much I just wanted to sleep, how dedicated I am to blogging even when I have nothing to say — most importantly that I have nothing to say and no direction —what the actual point of this blind determination is in the grand scheme of things ….

I thought about our afternoon and how as humans, we all choose who we spend time with in odd ways — but shouldn’t we choose other people who bring us joy?  Who light up at the same things as us — good conversation, debate, laughter …. Or whatever floats each person’s boat.  Shouldn’t we spend time with people we trust?

If I am devoted to coming to this space every day (ahem, night) shouldn’t I at least have a hazy outline of an idea?  Because just coming here and verbally vomiting on the page doesn’t serve anyone very much.  Am I serving myself?  In any other way than proving I don’t always quit?  I’m not sure.  Am I serving anyone who actually commits to reading?  I’d say no, as my posts are as random as a moment in anyone’s brain – disjointed, short, long, rambling … but mostly seemingly pointless.

Anyway.  I couldn’t go to sleep without blogging.  And somehow, I feel as though that’s a win.

Xox, g

Something husby and I talked about today – but we talk about often in different ways – is how we are each given one life.  No do-overs, no seconds, no switching out. Just one.

You can think of it as a gift from God or biology or just the way things work.  But we each get one.  And when we die there isn’t a terribly long span of time before we are forgotten.  (Not to be morbid or tragic or sad – but unless you’re George Washington or Socrates, you probably won’t be remembered hundreds of years later).

That being said, how we each choose to spend the time we are given – which is not in any way guaranteed – should (hopefully) take on new meaning.  Why spend time doing hateful things, or terrible things, or being utterly miserable in life?  Why choose to spend your precious time that way?

My mother was sometimes referred to as a Pollyanna.  This is in reference to an old Disney movie of the same name about a young girl who was positive in the face of some devastating odds.  She always found the bright side.  That was my mother – always sunny and happy and enjoying her time.

I know it wasn’t always like that.  There were times when it got very dark for her.  I was young (and some of it happened before I was even thought of, let alone born) but I remember those times.  I also think my mother – who lost her first husband at the tender age of twenty-two – understood the profundity of the fleeting nature of life.

I’ve been thinking about it today because there is a war going on in our country against human rights.  And a war on European soil that America cannot get involved in for threat of nuclear war.  And these people – those perpetrating the erasure of human rights and the invasion of another people’s home are CHOOSING to spend their limited time on this Earth pursuing these goals.  For what?  To affect a generation or two of humans coming after — to create a world of hate and fear and angst and terror?  That’s a choice.  By another human being.

It weighs on me, it makes me profoundly sad.  As I feel the privilege of my life, it’s safety and comfort.

Xoxo, g