If At First You Don't Succeed...

(Ever have "one of those weeks?"  Well I just did.  But here it is, Monday, a fresh start...)  

I'm going to use today's blog as therapy.  As my therapist, you just listen while I do most of the talking, okay?  It's kind of like confession (see my last post), but you just nod your head and scribble notes on your clipboard.

Me:  You see, Doctor (mind if I call you that?), I've was in a funk all last week and I'm not sure why.

You (Doctor/Therapist):  Tell me about it.

Me:  All right.  It's been over a week since Easter.  My family and I thoroughly enjoyed the holiday weekend!  My husband and I went on a long jog together, we had lots of neighbor friends over for a couple of great meals.

You:  So far so good.

Me:  I was thinking a lot about what Easter means.  You know:  resurrection, forgiveness, second chances, new life, and stuff like that.

You:  Mmmm-hmmm.

Me: I had so many thoughts about how I could put that into a blog.  It was going to be really clever and insightful.  I was thinking about how we should always choose life:  in the way we think, speak, treat others, eat, exercise, in what we read and listen to...  how our life is shaped by choices.  How our happiness is in our hands.

You:  And then what happened?

Me:  Well, I didn't have that great of a week.

You:  Why do you suppose that is?

Me:   I don't know!  Hey, I'm paying you the big bucks.  Help me out here.

You:  Tell me more about your week.

Me:  It was really busy, with a lot on the calendar.  As I think it through, I just felt behind all week.  I had some great intentions of things I was going to do, stuff I needed to catch up on, business I needed to take care of, how I was going to bless others (random and planned acts of kindness) and take care of my little sphere of influence.  I have people in my life who were having some Big Life Moments, and I just wasn't there for them.

You:  I see.

Me:  Everywhere I turned, I felt like I was letting someone down or not doing something right.

You:  Who told you that you must be perfect?

Me:  Nobody told me that.  Of course nobody's perfect.  I don't put that kind of pressure on other people and I wouldn't want anyone to put that on me.

You:  Sounds like you've done it to yourself.

Me:  Don't talk smack to me, Doc!  I already KNOW I'm not perfect.

You:  Everyone else knows it too.  They don't expect you to be, either.

Me:  But I've let people down.

You:  Can you make it right?

Me:  Some yes, some no.  What should I do?

You:  What do you think you should do?

Me:  Be real, vulnerable, honest.  Apologize.  And then do the thing I meant to do, even if it's late.

You:  And what about the things you feel you can't make right?

Me:  Be real, vulnerable, honest.  Apologize.  Then forgive myself and move on.

You:  That sounds good.

Me:  Yeah.

You:  So is happiness in your hands?

Me:  Yeah, but I guess I just dropped it for a few days.

You:  Now what?

Me:  I'm going to pick it back up again.  I'm going to take chances and try to bless others.  I'm going to do the best I can, given the circumstances in my life.  And not expect myself to be perfect.  My joy comes in doing things for others, but also in enjoying the blessings that are all around me.

You:  Like what?

Me:  Family, friends, chirping birds, spring flowers for sale in the grocery store, elderly couples

walking hand-in-hand, the Bible, ocean tides, music (listening and creating), puzzles, going on a good trail run, scented candles, the funny things my teenage sons say, the warmth of the sun, a great marriage, books, a delicious meal, connecting with people, mountains, taking a nap, rubber boots, sitting in the rocking chair in front of the wood stove, peanut butter, buds on the trees, yoga, slobbering babies, game night with my family, spring snow, hot tea, the laughter of children,  going on a walk, libraries, hearing people speak in other languages, the way my kids smell when they've been outside in the fresh air for a few hours, a clean kitchen, a tall glass of water, unexpected phone calls or e-mails, the ability to be moved to tears for happy or sad things (which seems to happen more and more each passing year).

You:  What about your blog?

Me:  Oh, I guess I'll forgive myself for not being as clever as I'd like to be.  I'll start fresh, move on.

You:  Okay.  Well, it looks like your time is up.

Me:  Thanks, Doc.  You're a genius.  You've really helped me a lot.

You:  It was nothing.