I’m tired. Happy and irritated and tired.

I’m tired. I almost chose not to write.  “I’m not in the mood to bare my soul today,” is what I thought as I considered what I would write about in this post.

I’m tired of trying to understand and explain what I’m experiencing in this unfolding and layered process of becoming more and more un-paralyzed.  It is too complex. The complexity itself is exhausting. Because even as I celebrate daily victories, I feel grandly defeated in each day.

In one breath I celebrate being able to reach to the top shelf for a plate and the next I wince at my awkward step-stumble across the kitchen.  I grumble as I fumble the package I am trying to open, and I softly smile as I deftly remove the item from inside.   I’m as proud of my six smooth steps as I am irritated by the water I spill during the three awkward steps that happen as I move from wood to carpet covered floor.

Part of me knows this is all ‘normal’. Regardless of specific circumstance, everyone’s life is as filled with daily challenges and disappointments as it is with success and celebration. It is the game that we call life. It is up to each of us to attend to these wildly rolling circumstances to the best of our ability in each moment. To move through it and let it go. I just have to keep moving forward, moving through time, being as true to myself and life as I can be. I know this as deeply as I forget it regularly.

Like this tired feeling, why in the hell am I so tired? I’ve been fighting with it tooth and nail. All day I’ve been arguing with my tired self, “Why am I so tired? I didn’t do that much. I’ve been resting. I haven’t been ‘over-doing’ so I shouldn’t be tired right?! Blah, blah, blah” on and on the internal voice challenges the feelings of what I’m experiencing. I had completely forgotten that talk I gave myself last week, that it doesn’t matter why I am tired. I don’t need an explanation. When I’m tired and I need to rest. Done.

So I almost didn’t write, so that I could rest.  But the part of me that is working on doing what I say I want to do pushed a bit. And I’m happy I did. I feel better both having written and having a better understanding of myself in this complexity.  As I wrote to you, I am writing to myself. Thank you for being a reader who helps me come to some kind of clarity about this wild human experience.

May we all be kinder to ourselves. May we all keep celebrating our efforts and soothing our own perceived failures. May we keep loving ourselves when our own expectations are not met by our very own selves and may we learn to set expectations that are in fact meetable.

 

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