Friday, June 2, 2017

Perspective


I needed a swift kick in the bum the other day feeling all sorts of sorry for myself and lost in the confusion of decisions and circumstances. So I scrolled through the photos on my phone looking for a little happiness. And I found it.

It was so neat looking through all the images of the year thus far and I felt overwhelmingly grateful for this life we're living and the husband and children I have. I find it just so easy to scroll through other people's instagram feeds (my social media weapon of choice) and just slowly creep into despair about how little I'm doing or how dull my images are or how I can never for the life of me think up a clever caption for my own photos. Comparison is the thief of joy. And you should never compare your behind the scenes to someone else's highlight reel. And all that. Not that you should air all your dirty laundry either, too much keepin' it real is just too much. Sharing the good is good and it helps, at least for me, keep my life in some perspective. I've got four wonderfully amazing kids who I genuinely think rock their socks. My husband is working incredibly hard and is such an example to me and my children. I am so lucky and should thank my lucky stars (and God) every single second of every single day that I get to spend as much time as I do with these awesome people. We live in a pretty incredible city with good restaurants, cool local haunts, lots of parks and outdoor spaces to roam around, and humidity. Wait a sec, that last one isn't really something I count as a blessing really, but it will help me appreciate the not humid places all the more. And that's keeping things in perspective.

That very same day as needing the bum-kick, my husband also explained some much needed truths about myself. Things I knew but needed to have explained to me in such a way that would not send me either into a rage or a panic and he did so beautifully. This then led to the scrolling and the gratitude and the glow of past remembrances, the joy of our present, and the excitement for our future. I want to do just about everything, as evident from my constant inconsistencies in writing. I want to quilt, and cross stitch, and write, and photograph, and inspire, and lead, and follow, and mother, and wife, and live fully, and live simply. I want all these things pretty much all the time. Which is impossible. I can't do everything all at once. No one can. 


Taking stock is never easy, especially when my tendencies are prone to wallow in self-pity and misery. Sometimes that's a really nice indulgent place to dwell for a time, because I do think self-reflection can help. But my time was up. Giving over fully, completely, totally to these types of feelings allow for bitterness, resentment, and hollowness to take root and eventually consume all that is good and humble. That feels quite dramatic. But in the moments the very real, raw, unabashed moments when I feel these feelings, it feels an awful lot like descending into a cave, experiencing total darkness or being swallowed by a black hole. Luckily, stars, in their multitude, lighten and guide in darkness and there is no pit so deep that the Savior of the world cannot get to me (or you for that matter). And all I needed was a little perspective.