Today I am still convalescing from a cold virus that ran through our family. I am at that point where I don’t want to be resting any more. I have life pressing in at me and boredom bothering me and impatience trying to spoil the rest. There’s so much I can’t write freely about online any more. My kids are so much older and so much of my life still involves them. But what about myself? Just myself. Me. Journaling is a good place to do inner exploration and to try to grasp some of the changes happening inside of me.
I used to think that a person could figure out what the right thing was… what the best way was… what the absolute beliefs should be. And I thought that if I could grasp all that, then everything else would fall into place. All I had to do was to lean hard enough into the right things. If something went wrong, it must be because I thought the wrong thing or did the wrong thing. I had no space in my life for suffering or sorrow or pain or brokennes. Eveyrthing I did was to push toward a vision of perfection. And i sure missed the point.
The point of life is not to achieve perfection. It’s not to pursue any image at all. The point of life is… to live… to grow… to change… to experience… to be beautiful.
Each of us makes the world a better place just by existing. I regret stomping on anything in my life and in others that didn’t fit my previous mold. My box was too small. I’m sorry. Time to live bigger now. Be free.