It is unnaturally difficult for me to lead with love.
I have to practice the same way I have to practice getting into half saddle with out the need for fifteen yoga props.
I still find it impossible sometimes to just say the things, I am thinking instead of becoming increasingly irate that my not mind reading husband, has not heard the words I have shouted in my mind, over, and over again when he asks me what I want to do.
These silent expectations that people can never meet.
I want to wake up free. I want to wake up in love, and I want to be ok with letting that be how I lead my life.
I practice putting spaces in-between hurt feelings, instead of spaces in between love.
I want to give love away, and not worry that it won’t come back to me. I want to love without the fear of a broken heart. I want to love without fear of being let down.
To do that I cannot let any human that crosses my path offend me for longer than a few seconds.
Not the crazy maniac last baby who has lost his sensitive mind over losing a Lego guy to the abyss of underneath the sofa.
Not the daughter who changes seven times a day, and dumps all the clean clothes in her costume bucket, underwear draw, and hamper.
Not the nine-year-old who starts crying when he sees we have moved on to five digit addition, and subtraction in math.
Not by the grown ass folks who show off their inner adolescents in public.
I have to be rational even when my over dramatic heart Is breaking, or raging.
I have to choose.
Do I want to be happy, or do I want to be right?
I choose to see the sparkles, because when I curl into my husband, or wrap my arms around these tiny humans at night, none of the offenses matter at all.
The only thing I can hear is the call to open up to the magic that life really is. To love this life with everything I have.
Getting caught up in the details of the perceived transgressions is not getting me to my goals. Calling my girls, and getting everyone egging on my irritation is not winning me that porch swing.
So, I tuck them away in my God Box, I pray, I listen to DMX deafeningly loud, I let my own inner adolescent guest write in my journal, I eat pop tarts, and then complain that my kidneys hurt.
I sit with these feelings, and pick at them until there’s nothing left. I dig, and dig until I can see the things as clearly as I can see them. I talk in terms of what I can do, not what someone did to me.
It wasn’t always like that.
I am a Leo with an air sign rising, raised by an aficionado of drama. It has not been easy to walk away from the whirl winds of emotions being offended offers. The self-importance caressing the edges of my Leo.
The shiny things distracting me from reality.
I am trying t to love people for who they are, not what I want them to be.
I have learned that trying to make someone, or something, be in my life that wasn’t meant to be, is just taking room away form the people, or experiences I am supposed to be letting in.
I have learned that boundaries are a key to success, and that I can put them up without it being like a real housewives episode.
The goal is to be happy, and living bitter sure as hell does not compliment that goal.
I let that shit go, and then I humbly thank the sweet lord baby Jesus for all the blessings.
Only love is real, and that makes me feel better about still wearing fake eyelashes.
