Wandering through that forest right now?
You are, or you wouldn’t be reading.
You’re bone-tired, aren’t you?
Tired of pushing and pushing and “must doing” and “must doing” all day long. Tired of feeling empty, sad, or angry. Tired of pretending everything’s okay when you’re falling apart.
And all you want right now is to curl up into a ball and hide until the storm stops.
Then screw it. Do it.
Put on some sad background music.
While you’re curled up in your safe place, nestled under the blankets or hidden behind the bubbles in your bathtub, there are some things I want you to do.
- I want you to give yourself permission to be weak, vulnerable, and cry the tears you need to cry to move forward.
- I want you to give yourself permission to grieve the things you could have been or the things that you were and aren’t anymore.
- I want you to give yourself permission to be angry that you work your ass off and never get ahead.
- I want you to give yourself permission to be sad about the new wrinkles on your face, pounds on your body, or responsibilities you have no clue in hell how you’ll be able to do.
Now change the song.
Still in that fetal position?
Good.
Because we’re not done.
Here’s what I want you to do now.
- I want you to picture a heart and then picture the people who inhabit it. The husband who brings you ginger ale when you’re sick, the children who you mean the world to, the family who loves you no matter your weight, paycheck, or Twitter following.
- I want you to picture your house and then picture the gifts it gives you. A place to rest your head when others settle in for the night on street benches. A place that has water you don’t have to walk a mile to get. A place that, for all its peeling paint and stained carpet, is your safety and sanctuary from an often brutal world.
- Picture your body. Go ahead. Look at the fat rolls, scars, or crow’s feet. It’s human nature to see the bad things first. Now, picture a woman in conversation with a doctor who tells her she can’t have children. Picture a six-year-old girl in a wheelchair. Picture the face of a person who’s just been told the chemo isn’t working and there’s nothing more to be done.
The bottom line:
It could be that right now you don’t want to think about how good you have it. So give yourself permission to not feel particularly grateful at the moment.
After all, as much as some people like to pretend they’ve mastered the art of eternal gratitude, most of us haven’t.
We want more.
However, as crappy as you feel right now, know things will get better. Second winds will come, and new blessings will be bestowed. Life always has a way of handing us a ray of sunshine just when we think we’ll be in the dark forever.
So stay burrowed under the covers for the day if you need to. Rest. Remember, there’s always tomorrow. Then remember that everyone can’t say that.
Note: Opening quote by Raine Cooper.
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This post was previously published on Hello, Love.
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You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
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