Some awe…

ButterfliesCan you recall a time when you were moved to tears? Not the stoic sobs kind of response, but the surprising flurry of ecstatic tickled pink emotion that brings on weeping and laughing and enthusiastic clapping. I’m kind of addicted, but who wouldn’t be?

Thing is, you can’t replicate it on demand. It pretty much requires an unexpected external spark to ignite an innocent, and spontaneous eruption. It can be a painting, a cloud, even a breeze. It can be a grand gesture, or a surprise hug. Whatever the specifics of the stimulus, you are simply overcome by awe in the moment. Your heart swells with appreciation and the gratitude that comes when you realize you’re witness to a miracle. It’s a birth, the metaphysical kind, and you cannot control the reaction. Seriously, why would you want to?

Last night’s hurried blog is the impetus behind the above. In spite of still having a lot to do to get moved, and occasionally wondering how the hell I’m going to make this all happen, I’m happy with my choices. My blathering last night was me ineptly confronting the “it won’t last” attitude. I refuse to fall into that trap. The old adages and false ‘truisms’ attributable to a Murphy’s Law mentality are divisive. My choice is to expect only good. I might have given lip service to that thinking in the past, but I wasn’t completely committed. It wasn’t a deep conviction. Things have changed.

I’ve made, and continue to make, a lot of changes. That’s what this whole Re-do 365 is about. I’ve written about my diet, exercise routines, and the ongoing desire to “watch my language”. One result of making changes, though, is that you have to make changes. Ah ha, the conundrum!

What I saw six months ago was a woman wracked with self-doubt. I felt small, unworthy. I was too old; washed-up. Filled with regrets, I was afraid of my own shadow. No one saw me because I wouldn’t let them. How could I? They’d hate the real me. I hated the real me. I felt I was a complete loser!

Need I go on?

Facing myself remains a sometimes terrifying prospect, but so far, the truth HAS set me free. Based on that observation, it’s probably safe to assume the process is working well. I’m not the woman I was six months ago. I am not the woman I will be six months from now. In this moment, I’m a woman happy to weep, laugh, and clap her hands because she can. And I’m doing it more and more with each passing day.

Wishing you a hit, a sip, a second, a glimpse of awesome. Whether your bliss comes from a hug, a smile, a job well done, or a bird in flight, I hope each day you find some awe to inspire, enlighten, and encourage you.

Until tomorrow…

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