‘Twas The Day After Christmas…

 

 

It’s Boxing Day. A few gifts have been opened and I’ve now seen the new Star Wars movie (fab-o). I’ve eaten Christmas steak, participated in Christmas debauchery and am ready for a post-Christmas rest. But only briefly, as life marches on and I love a good parade! Wouldn’t want to miss anything.

 

Actually, as the year’s end approaches, I am experiencing my usual feelings. There’s a bit of processing going on and the occasional tear falls. I am an emotional cuss, I know. But I happen to like me, so I think I’ll keep me around for a while.

 

When you think about it, coming out of such a charged holiday with one’s self-worth intact is fairly remarkable. I know it doesn’t always turn out this way – not for me, nor for many others. So this year feels danged good. So far…

 

Let’s all try to love ourselves for the next week, shall we? Honestly – doesn’t that sound more appealing than using our own souls for punching bags? I’ve been on the receiving end of my psychological left hook and it ain’t pretty. For the short remainder of the year, I think I’ll hang up my boxing gloves and give me a break. I really mean this when I say it: I deserve it.

 

And so do you.

Who You Calling Dummy, Dummy?

 

 

Mister and I spotted this sign one day when we were out for a walk. And yes – those are my feet.

 

Sometimes I feel like a total dummy, and that sucks. We’ve been trying to fix a temperature regulator in a shower, and we’ve made zero-point-zero progress. That makes me feel like a dummy.

 

I’m working on a perspective issue with a painting, and my brain just hasn’t gotten it yet. That makes me feel like a dummy.

 

I’ve got several containers of used cooking oil and used paint thinner lined up to be taken to the haz-mat center. But have I taken them? No. I just keep adding to the collection. That makes me feel like a dummy.

 

But perhaps nothing makes me feel like a dummy more than when I treat myself as if I am a dummy. For I am not. I’m just a regular gal. Decent enough smarts. More than decent heart. I make a pretty awesome version of me, in fact.

 

I’m trying to be better about simply appreciating myself, without tearing me down. The world will do enough of that without my help. So today my aim is kindness. Toward others. Toward the world. Toward myself. I deserve it.

Slowing Down

 

 

Life is good, I’m fully aware. I am blessed to be able to work on art, projects, cooking, life. I get to hike in the mountains of southern California. And the weather can’t be beat.

 

I also get to slow down once in a while, at my choosing. And those moments are lovely.

 

Those moments are lovely. This moment, however, isn’t my choosing. And I Do. Not. Like. It.

 

I’m not sure, but I think it began with one of those So-Cal hikes. I talked Mister into taking a side trail, off the beaten path. It was a new view for us, and we had no idea the uphill portion would be a bit more challenging than what we’re used to. But there it was, so there you go. And y’all, once you’ve started hiking, there’s no stopping. You’ve got to get yourself out of there. Ain’t nobody gonna do it for you. So we trucked up the side path and eventually re-joined the known trail. For me, it was hard. But I did it, and I didn’t think anything more about it. Until about 24 hours later.

 

I was standing at the grocery store, choosing a can of garbanzo beans (I kid you not). I placed the can in my bag and stepped away from the shelf. That’s when it hit me. The foot pain was major, and ugly. I knew it wasn’t good. Not broken, but still not good. My doctor confirmed my suspicions: injured tendon.

 

So now I’m slowing down, more than I prefer. It isn’t easy for me, as I tend to define myself by how much I accomplish on any given day. Doing mostly nothing leaves me with a low sense of self-worth. I know it’s whack-a-do, but it’s just the way I am. It’s a bad habit and I’m working on it, but it’s tough to shake. This little injury has left me struggling already, and as Mister puts it, I am a terrible patient. But sometimes life doesn’t give a doughnut hole what I think/feel/want. Life just is. And right now, life means being laid up for a while. Maybe I’ll read. Maybe I’ll write. Maybe I’ll do both, and everything else that doesn’t require the use of my right foot. I don’t know.

 

But though I can’t see it now, I’m sure there’s an opportunity here – for something. Wish me luck. Like always, I surely need it.