I want to say so much. My thoughts are tripping over each other, vying for attention, hopping up and down impatiently, shouting "Me, me, me! Pick ME!!"
And I'm trying to shush them, to collect my thoughts, and to get them in order. But I fail miserably.
Life is so full at the moment, so good. But also filled with worries that I try to ignore, which I'm sometimes successful at, but mostly fail miserably.
It's a constant dance between being grateful, reminding myself to be grateful, trying to "make the most of it", to overthink everything, to be a bit sad, to feel inadequate. To play the comparison game.
Reminding myself sternly that comparison is the thief of joy, and to quit comparing. And I'm successful sometimes, but fail miserably at other times.
I haven't been kind to myself. I fell into the trap of expecting more of myself: To work more, write more, work out more, eat more healthily, sleep more, be more patient.
To be more, more, more.
I've worked myself into a frenzy of "life is short! do everything NOW, before it's too late!"
I met a man who had a heart transplant at the age of 70. He is now 80 years old, and doing remarkably well. I mentioned to Rich how amazing it is that they gave a 70-year old a new heart (implying that 70 is kinda old), and he said: "In eight years, I'm going to be 70." And it took my breath away for a moment. How is that possible? Time, you capricious bitch, SLOW THE HELL DOWN, please.
I have to remind myself to stop. To stop the frenzy in my head, the urge to do more, do it faster, do it now. Take a deep breath, and slow down.
I've been reading lots lately, which has a weird double-effect on me: It's incredibly enjoyable, because I love reading so much. It's also shockingly frustrating, because besides giving me great joy, it's also giving me envy.
"I want to write like that. Why can't I write like that?" are the two mantras that keep repeating themselves, which is distracting.
I'm torn between gloom (I'm not a writer, and never will be), hope (Cea Person said she wasn't a good writer to begin with, but she practiced until she was), and admonishing myself to stop overthinking everything and to enjoy the damn book.
Speaking of books: The ones I read recently are North of Normal, Coming Clean, When Breath Becomes Air, Outliers, and now I'm on Becoming. I'm heavily into biographies and memoirs at the moment, and all of them are unique and awesome in their own way.
Life seems messier than usual, but it is also full. Filled to the brim, in fact, with so much goodness that it, too takes my breath away: Forging new friendships, which is such a difficult task for me. But with the right people, it's surprisingly easy - effortless and rewarding, and it makes my heart soar.
There are people I value so much, who take the time to check in, to chat, to make plans. There are invites for adventures in the near future: Flying, going tubing, visiting baby kangaroos, hosting a birthday dinner, going for drinks with girlfriends.
Life is a mixed bag, but it's overwhelmingly good. My biggest obstacle to overcome is myself, and how I choose to see things: Do I get sucked into negativity, drama, and an endless cycle of complaining about the same stuff over and over again? Or do I make the conscious decision to accept the things I cannot change, and focus on everything that's good instead? Writing it down makes it so obvious, a no-brainer. Actually doing it is a different story, but you know what?
We are so much stronger than we think we are.
More capable than we give ourselves credit for.
More resilient than we ever thought possible.
More blessed than we sometimes realize.
While I thought I need to be, do, and achieve more, I have had more all along.
Much more than I took the time to see, feel, and appreciate. But I do so now, in this moment.
And I'm filled to the brim with gratitude.
Namaste, my friends. Have a beautiful week!