Today marks the last day of my 21-day adventure, and therefore I am choosing to honor me. I am celebrating making a plan and sticking with it, and truly committing to find my joy and radiance, even on the rough days. I am celebrating writing about this journey on my blog; sharing my ups and downs with my daughters and investing in me, so I can be the role model they deserve.
Most days it was easy to find multiple things to celebrate, and other days it was tougher. Some days, it was hard to write, not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I was too tired to have perfect word-smithing. Although I didn’t want to, I wrote anyway, accepting that my writing would be subpar, and that is ok. Other days I found myself racing to the computer at the strangest times to jot everything down before the muse of creativity yet once again slipped away. As I mentioned before, I have learned to take full advantage of those moments. Bringing back creativity through this small piece of writing and even in my art classes has been the most amazing gift I have given to myself.
A lot of times I wait until the quite of night to gather my thoughts to write, which wasn’t always ideal when extreme tiredness set in. I started this post, however, yesterday after my drive to school with my daughter. I raced into the house to jot my initial ideas and thoughts down, and then sat down this evening to put it all together. I knew that no matter what happened today, celebrating me would be the top priority.
The official first day of spring is only a few days away, and although it is snowing right now, I still feel a level of freshness and light that I haven’t felt in a long time. My body is still far away from my comfort zone weight and I still don’t know how I am going to pay rent next month, but in looking at all that I have to celebrate, I have faith that I will figure it out- I always do.
A few nights ago I found out that my dad needs to have a biopsy of his prostrate and there is a 20% that it could be cancer. I’m trying my best not to worry about it, until there is something to worry about, but I was slammed with the reality that my parents are getting to the age where things could potentially go downhill quickly, or they could be fine for another twenty years. They have both had the fortune of good health, but faced with this prospect has opened me up to the necessity of forgiveness; not just for my parents, not just for anyone who has wronged me, but for me.
To say life is precious, or any other appropriate cliché, has deep meaning when faced with the potential of the mortality of a loved one. I know my parents may never fully understand me or support me the that I want them to, but I also know I can no longer turn to them for validation (it only took me 40 years to get there, yay). My happiness can and will not be determined by an outside source. I am the author of my story.
My life has been in an incredibly stressful place for the last year, and although I have struggled with depression, I feel lifted and freer after these 21 days of celebrations. I know that if I can pull myself out of the proverbial muck in only three weeks by appreciating one tiny thing a day, I can only imagine where I will be by next year. Facing adversity in the midst of darkness is no easy task. I know I still have a ways to go, and there will be crappy days indeed. But I am ready to take on the next phase of my adventure and look forward to where the current takes me.