The past week has been full of challenges, mostly emotional ones.
Sometimes, I get so frustrated. Before this week, I was feeling fantastic, eating well, running on the treadmill, and having fun at work.
Sunday afternoon, all my good feelings dissolved and I crumpled into a fragile heap.
Part of growing up is realising that not every day is going to be a great one, and surrendering to the fact that sometimes there are things beyond our control.
The older I get, the more I try to control the things happening in my life. I have been obsessive about cleaning around the house lately, and I know it is because I want to control things. I write to-do lists that are three pages long, lists that never get completed, lists that make me feel worse when I look at them and think
look at how little you’ve accomplished today.
Why do we beat ourselves up like this? Who cares if the dishwasher is unpacked today or tomorrow? It doesn’t matter.
This week, I was lucky enough to experience something that changed my way of thinking. This week, I cried. And instead of feeling bad about it, instead of trying to stop myself, I just let it happen.
When we can get to a point when we stop trying to avoid unpleasant things, they often aren’t as bad as we had imagined.
This week, I cried. And afterwards, when my tears had dried and I could catch my breath, I felt a little bit like myself again.
I bought these two prints this week, when I was feeling better.
Just to remind myself about what is important.