Stand in your truth

In keeping with my whole reduce-reuse-recycle goals (bet you though I forgot all about that, didn’t you?), I’ve decided to go through my Drafts folder here on the blog and see what the heck I decided to ditch before I ever hit publish.

My very oldest draft was one called “Stand in Your Truth” from way back in April August of 2011. I hadn’t actually done anything but cut and paste a quote (which I had to Google to find out was from Suze Orman):

You can’t build a foundation on lies. You can’t build a future if you do not know who you are. You can’t become who you are meant to be if you can’t tell the truth about who you are, what you have, and everything about your life. The truth is the absolute essence to your success, while lies are the absolute essence to your failures.

I have been trying to live this quote out this week. I have been shining a bright light on (among other things):

  • how much my mindless eating habits have contributed to my weight gain;
  • how much my time-sucking phone habits have contributed to my messy house;
  • how much my fear and confusion have contributed to my stresses at work.

It definitely hasn’t been pretty, but I think I will make better headway from here on out.

Letting go of some dreams

As it does so often, aspirational clutter is rearing its ugly head. So many of the boxes I need to sort through are filled with stuff I have been saving for “someday.”

  • Someday I will get to that quilt project.
  • Someday those empty journals will come in handy.
  • Someday, Quinland will decide she wants to a) dress like a pioneer; b) dress in my 80s drop-waist jumpers; or c) dress in … well, a dress.

I need to get honest with the fact that the first two “somedays” – quilting and journaling – are under my control… but I do not have control of what Quinland will do someday.

She may want to wear a dress in the future, but she may never want to wear one again. She will never, EVER, want to wear my old cotton jumpers, though they did come from Brass Plum at Nordstrom and one has the cutest lace collar. She just won’t. Nor will anyone else, probably. (I will never fit into them again, or I’d be parading around like it was 1986 in a heartbeat.)

This all came to a head about a week ago. My friend Deb was over and noticed that – in the wall of boxes currently stacked outside my bedroom – I had a box labeled “80’s drop-waist jumpers.” Yes, a boxful. (Am I excused if I point out that it was neatly organized and labeled?)  We dug in. Deb discovered that she had personally handmade half of the jumpers back in our college days, and we had a bit of reminiscing over each one. She took one jumper to use as fabric for a future project and then advised that I take photos of the rest and get rid of them. They sat out for this entire week before I have decided this afternoon that she was right. I’ll take a photo or two, and the jumpers can go.

The pioneer stuff is another story. I mean, there has got to be a way I can get that child to wear a coordinating sunbonnet with me, no?

What are you embarrassed to admit that you have saved?  Any long-cherished dreams that you have to admit will never be fulfilled? Comment and commiserate!

The best you can do

One does not always do the best there is. One does the best one can. – Catherine the Great

I’ve been sick for about a week. I have a cold – the Cold of Death – that has stripped me of my voice and filled my head with sludge. My son is avoiding being in the same room as me and has accused me of having a nose as red as Rudolph’s. I’ve made it in to work all week somehow, though my days are spent nursing my box of Kleenex and wishing I were anywhere else.

Worst of all, I have no energy to speak of. I find it hard to accomplish anything beyond eating takeout meals and falling into my bed. This is most inconvenient as I have sworn to reform my life beginning on January 1st. My hopes and wishes for 2013 remain unchanged, but I am starting to admit to myself that they will have to be put off for the time being.

And you know what? That’s okay. I am allowed to be sick. I am allowed to fall short. I am allowed to be less than perfect (and oh, how much less I currently am!), allowed to get off to a good-but-slow start, allowed to sleep as much as my heart desires and my body needs.

I will get better. The cold will go away. My poor nose will recover. My voice will return, and so will my energy. There is plenty of time to do the things I need to do. I’ll do them, with energy and a happy heart, when I feel better.

In the meantime, I’ll be doing the best I can. Right now, that translates into a warm shower and an early bedtime. Good night!

How are you feeling? Have you managed to avoid the respiratory menace that is sweeping the nation Cold of Death? Do you have any remedies that don’t boost the immune system? (Yeah, zinc and vitamin C are out.  Can’t exacerbate the MS!)