Being disorganized has its merits. Today, for example, while combing through my GSD (Getting Shit Done) list, I stumbled upon this blog post, one I never posted, and it brought some insight into my December…
I owe Phil. Something big, a pass on all the times he’s short-tempered. No, wait. That might be getting ahead of myself. I owe him because today I came home with a mood you could taste. Like, when you inhale your perfume or eat too much garlic. I was at least aware of it, warning everyone in my wake to lay low. Because TWO HOURS in a HALLOWEEN STORE will do this to a person.
Every last costume we wanted has already been snagged up. Originally, we thought Abigail would dress as the Wicked Witch of the West, Lucas as the Cowardly Lion, Phil as the Tin Man without a heart, and me, Abigail insisted, as Dorothy, “looking everywhere to find home,” blind to the fact that home is always with you.
I owe Phil because when I walked into that house, I was wearing his mood, the one I see more often than I don’t. Only at my wits end moment, I at least made enough room to ask for some.
… And my December insight is this:[Tweet “The wake doesn’t drive the boat.”]
What’s in the past, the ripple that pulls away from our boat, isn’t going to propel us forward. We need to let go… whether it’s letting go of an earlier part of our day, or it’s loosening our grip on the stories we’ve held onto that have made us right. Just because I’ve allowed certain behavior in the past, doesn’t mean I have to live it now. You can let go of the labels you’ve been giving yourself; you don’t have to be a disorganized mess. You can up and suddenly be absurdly on top of things. I can choose to react differently, to change my mind, or to truly see a different point of view. And, right now, the view from here looks bright. Or maybe I’m just happier because Phil hasn’t lost his temper in a really long time, and it has been a joy, he has been a joy more often than not.