Got home from work at a tad before 9pm. I assumed that my husband and son were in bed because except for my daughter's light the house was completely dark. Within minutes, my daughter was in the kitchen with me talking my ear off and a few minutes later my son scooted in. Having such a good conversation with my daughter, I didn't even care my son was up past bedtime.
These last couple of post haven't really been as focused as I would like them to be. I get such plans for this blog thing and end up just doing whatever the hell I feel like. In general, a lot of things aren't how I would like them to be. Yesterday or the day before, I had posted something cryptic (surprise, surprise) about having a bad penny of an issue and not knowing what to do about it. Oddly enough, I have no issues know. I am learning to love the way life works itself out...without my input or say so or whatever other grandiose notion I have at the time.
So my blogs aren't focused and pretty and tied with a bow. People are reading. I am assuming people, maybe it is bots. I don't know. The point is that if I posted and posted and posted and never had hits, I would have quit. I really would have. But I post and post and post, sometimes very raw and very off the cuff and my hits will realistically reach 5 digits by the end of the year, so I must be doing something right.
I have entertained that I am a trainwreck and people can't help themselves. I don't think that is the case. Gruesome freak shows eventually get boring. Based on what I can see in my stats, I resonate with a few of you out there. I am grateful to have been given the opportunity to be relatable to you. I think of all the times that I have felt so lost, alone, out of control, crazy and think of what it would have meant to me to find something that I could hold onto and feel a little relief.
I have nothing against positivity and motivational slants BUT 24/7 happiness is not available without a prescription. I would rather be real and have people attach to me for my realness than to have a throng of adoring fans attached to a fabrication that I can not sustain. I am so Popeye in that I am what I am. And the phrase "I am" makes me think of a lesson I once heard a Unity minister deliver a lesson cautioning to be care what you attach your "I am" to. (Oh snap! I ended a sentence with a preposition.)
It makes a lot of sense really. Of all the things that I could say that I am...which ones REALLY matter? I am a job? Nope, not really in most cases. No fooling for a lot of a j-o-b is a means to an end, so why weigh yourself down with something like that? I am a social status. Sorry, wrong answer, take it from me and Frank Sinatra "riding high in April, shot down in May."
I am a wife and a mother...and a daughter and niece...a sister...a friend...a lover...God expressing at the point where I exist...love...those things seems worthwhile attachments to what I am because they are always and only dependent on one thing...me.
Nothing in my whole day mattered to me more than the time with my kids tonight when I got home. They never gave me time like that when I was home, so it makes me feel better about the cosmic scheme of how I ended up back in the work force in a job title I swore I would never hold.
I guess what I am saying is that you my friend should never cloud what you are with what you need to be because in the words of Loretta Lynn "God Makes No Mistakes."
Where ever you are, what ever you are doing, despite what you are feeling, it's all part of the ride. Trust me, hang on through that next dip, that next bend, sometimes even a couple of loop-de-loops, It's only the end of the world if you give up. I regret it took me nearly 37 years to figure that out.
How's that for a wind down? I am off to bed. I hope that whereever you are peace finds you and you are able to be a blessing to someone else.