I’d Rather Feel Good (Blog #771)

The internet (my hot spot) is slow. It just took me thirty minutes to get online, download tonight’s photos, log in to the blog, and get started. And whereas I’ve been tempted to get “oh hell no” frustrated–I’m tired and ready to go to bed–I’ve been forcing myself to remain calm (everybody remain calm). Wayne Dyer used to say, “I want to feel good.” (He doesn’t say that now because he’s dead.) But that’s been my reminder tonight–that I’d rather be patient and feel good than get all worked up and feel bad. Because, let’s face it, getting worked up is a choice. It’s not something you HAVE to do. If it IS something you HAVE to do (if your circumstances dictate your mood), then I’m just going to suggest you’re not as free as you might like to think you are. Likewise, if getting worked up ISN’T something you HAVE to do, then why would you do it?

Hum. Today, like yesterday, was fabulous. This afternoon I went to the gym with my dad and aunt and spent the rest of the day with my nose in a book. Well, until this evening, when I went to my friend Kim’s for dinner. Her family was there, and they grilled out. We had shish-kabobs. Talk about delicious. Then we just sat around and visited. Nothing too deep, nothing life-changing, but delightful. This is something I need more of–good conversation and laughter. At one point Kim mentioned a self-help something for me to to check out, and I said, “I’m up in that stuff CONSTANTLY–don’t make me!” Of course, the truth is I LOVE that stuff. Can’t get enough of it. But I also need a break now and then from all the navel gazing.

Seriously, I’ve got a crick in my neck.

Speaking of navel gazing, this afternoon I got (in the mail) a printed copy of Year Two of Me and My Therapist (this blog). I ordered it online a couple weeks ago from a company in California, and it finally arrived–spiral bound and everything. Oh my gosh, y’all, I felt (and feel) like a proud parent. 600 (300 double sided) pages of my writing, my life. Flipping through it, it doesn’t seem possible. But as I’ve said a hundred times before, anything is possible if you just keep showing up.

I’ve said my goal for this blog is at least a thousand days in a row, and recently I realized that, in light of this, each individual blog equals 10 percent of 10 percent of 10 percent of the whole. That is, 0.1 percent. That’s what tonight’s blog contributes to the grand scheme. And whereas part of me thinks, Geez, that’s nothing, another part of me knows that’s everything. Ten days of 0.1 percent, and that’s 1 whole percent. Ten sets of ten days (100 days), and that’s 10 percent. I won’t keep doing the math (which I’m not entirely sure I have right anyway), but you get the point. Little things add up.

This is something I keep reminding myself. I’ve got in my head to read several books in the near future, and also start some other writing projects. Both tasks intimidate me. Not because I haven’t tackled such things before, but I still worry about getting everything done and done well. So I have to keep telling myself that those projects are really no different than this project. They’re just a matter of showing up and working consistently. A hour here, an hour there. Every day, every damn day, if I feel like being a hard ass about it.

I probably shouldn’t be a hard ass about it.

Because, you know, balance.

Balance is becoming more and more important to me. Not just in terms of my work/social life, but in terms of my mental/emotional life. For example, earlier I was talking about being tempted to get worked up about my slow internet. Before this happened, I was rocking along just fine. I was even-keeled. Had I chosen to get frustrated, it would have thrown off the balance I already had going, and then I would have had to find it again. So rather than go down that road, I just stayed on the one I was already on. The more peaceful road. The everything-is-fine road. The I’d-rather-feel-good road.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Abundance is a lot like gravity--it's everywhere.

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by

Writer. Dancer. Virgo. Full of rich words. Full of joys. (Usually.)

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