to not go to the cashier's office 9878235 more times to ask them if they sent my dollars yet.
to write about the things I don't want to write about.
to look at clouds more. Really look at them.
to let myself believe that yes, I am in a good place.
to let myself believe that I earned this.
to give myself permission to enjoy this.
to stop touching wood every time I think a thought I am uncomfortable with.
to decide how I can delicately distance myself from a "friend" and still show her love.
to wear all of the dresses in my closet at least one more time before buying any new ones.
to get used to the idea of working with middle school students.
to think of non-creepy ways to show my appreciation for the people in my life.
to finish knitting the blue scarf before it gets cold enough to wear it.
to accept people's compliments at face value.
to accept people's love.
to accept people.
And I am doing AWESOME. Seriously. Except for the finishing-the-scarf part; I haven't really been trying to do that so much. Also the writing about things I don't want to write about; but I am thinking about maybe starting to. Mostly I am trying to consciously turn inward at least a few times each day, and make a point to acknowledge whatever I find and deal with it. Here is where if I keep talking I will start making inaccurate blanket statements about myself so, nope. Instead, here is a picture to break up this text:
And here is something to read that is nice:
The Invitation | Oriah
It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.
It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.
And here is another treat for your eyes:
xoxo
