On any given day, this is how my thought process works:
“Oh my gosh she’s going to be late for school. Why didn’t I wake up earlier? Why am I so lazy?”
“He doesn’t have any clean jeans. Why can’t I ever do laundry on time?”
“I need to run across town. My gas tank is empty. Why didn’t I remember to fill up this weekend. I’m so dumb.”
“Oh no, I’m running behind. If you would stop daydreaming so much, Amy, you might get to places on time.”
“I think she’s mad at me. What did I do wrong?”
“I haven’t heard from him in a while. What did I do wrong?”
“My books sold less yesterday than the day before. My career is going to tank.”
“I suck at writing. I suck at writing. I suck at writing…”
Sound familiar to anyone?
Maybe your personal topics are different, but something tells me I’m not alone. Generally, I’m a positive person. Except internally, to myself. Maybe it’s my drive to succeed, my personal motivation, or just the way I am, but when it comes to me, I tend to go negative in an internal mantra that most often sounds like this: do better do better do better.
This morning, I’d had enough of myself. I don’t even remember what happened. Maybe it was when I was hanging pictures and I hung one a little crooked. Maybe it was when someone skipped over an Instagram photo and I felt a little tug of hurt. Maybe it was when I ordered coffee and forgot to ask for it extra hot. Maybe it was when I thought all of these things and then swiftly decided was the shallowest person to ever walk on earth. But there I was again.
Why can’t you do anything right?
Immediately that thought was followed by this thought:
Oh my gosh shut the heck up.
Yes, I do a lot wrong. But I also do a lot right.
I love. Hard. I love people who love me. I love people who don’t love me back. I love people who hate me. Sometimes up close, sometimes from a distance. But I love. And I love well.
I work. Hard. Sometimes all day. Sometimes all night. When I’m not working, I’m thinking about working. When I’m playing, I feel guilty for not working. That’s a negative. But still, I work. And I work well.
I laugh. Hard. And more than laughing myself, I love to make other people laugh. Or at least try. Sometimes I fail, sometimes it backfires. But still, I laugh. And I laugh often.
I care. Hard. I care about things I have no business caring about. Whether or not other people are happy. Whether or not I’m doing enough to make the lives of others better. Whether or not I’m a good friend. Whether or not I’m making enough time for others. Still, I care. And I care a lot.
I cry. Hard. And maybe some might see that as a downfall, but I don’t. I feel a lot of empathy. I take on other’s pain. I wonder if people feel alone. I hope that they never feel alone around me. I’m sad when I disappoint people. And so I cry. And I cry well.
I try. Hard. I try to be a good friend. I try to keep up. I try to listen more than I speak. I try to write it all down. I try to keep house and cook dinner and take care of the dog. I try to look my kids in the eye every day and tell them how much they’re loved. I try to text my friends and let them know I’m thinking of them. I try to get it all done. I try. And I try well.
There’s probably more, but then again here I am. Thinking this blog post is too long. Wondering if it’s boring. Hoping it even makes a little bit of sense. Because maybe it doesn’t. And maybe you’ve rolled your eyes the entire time you’ve been reading.
And here we are again.
Today I decided to care less about what I’m doing wrong.
But I didn’t say I’d mastered it.