I give myself talks, as though I’m my own life coach. “Lighten up,” I say. “Have fun, take care of yourself, and for goodness sake, be nice.” So I bake bread, grow flowers, play one-on-one with my son, eat ice cream, read good books, exercise, get 8 hours of sleep, dance, spend time with my friends.
I count to ten.
I take deep breaths, but still.
Surly.
I have a moment every day when I think, “Man, my life is good.” And I look around and see that it is true. But if I don't tend to my negativity, I'm a taken-for-granted, can't-take-a-joke grouch. Worst of all, I don’t opt for kindness and patience enough with my husband.
My life is in a sweet spot too: my parents are not elderly; I’m young enough to be physically strong, old enough to be confidant; I’m financially stable and don’t want for what I don’t have.
And I give thanks daily. I give thanks for my and my family’s health, for my warm little house, for clean water and fresh air. Who or what do I thank? The universe. I just put it out there, extend my full heart in a big, thanking exhale.
Despite my gratitude, somehow my relationship with my soul has become a bit estranged. Jesus and Mary? I haven’t spoken to them in years. And I’m wondering if this might be my problem.
In this blog, I will document getting reacquainted with my soul, and in particular with my inherited religion, Christianity. I’m not sure how I’ll do this yet, but I’ll figure that out.
A little art-making might help my mission, as well as being attuned to the blissful moments in each day and capturing them with words and my camera. It will be my soul’s multivitamin: a big, juicy daily bliss bomb.
No comments:
Post a Comment