It feels so far away in the middle of a typhoon.
As I curl up in my bed with a belly full of chips of the corn and chocolate variety, I feel pain and shame.
I have tools. I have tools right at my fingertips. I also have dirty dishes at my fingertips and dirty hair and lots of folks who are way worse off than I am right now.
My typhoon is a fun fest of woman hormones, disappointment, and marriage stuff. I've tried to find clarity and set boundaries and process.
Why can't I get up and drink something healthy? That's easy, right?
Why can't I hop on my mat?
Why can't I let myself have one dang day where all I do is search for the bottom of the snack bag and NOT HATE MYSELF for it?
There's two tiny people on my shoulder -one is Glennon and she's telling me to be where I am and love my own guts. The other is Jillian Michael and she's yelling at me about self-discipline and change and her eyebrows are scary and Glennon is whispering to me about loving someone who doesn't love themselves is also important but first? chocolate.
How do I get out? How do I pluck my shame roots up and toss them over the fence? How do I juice veggies and fight the voice saying, "Too little too late, sister"?
How do I stop streaming crappy Netflix movies? Or get my kids to leave me alone so I can just stream crappy Netflix movies?
How do I move into acceptance?
I remind myself that circumstances are fake things about time and money and hustle. I let go of the need to turn today around! and hit restart!
Today is just one of those foggy, hard days.
I used to earn my way through them, but now I'm just going to feel sad because, as Frost says, "Nothing Gold Can Stay" which means nothing sad can either.
I don't pin my hopes on Tomorrow, but Time gives me wonderful gifts like:
distance from pain and
clarity and
Tomorrow.
So Tomorrow it is. Today can't stay forever. Robert Frost wouldn't allow it.
