Love Me Do

  I’m pretty clear that being loving, or at least accepting, towards other people as they are is a priority for me. And when I think about it I include myself in that too.

Meaning, being loving and accepting towards myself as I am is a priority. And today I’m taking that priority seriously.

Can I be with what is true? That I am no better than or worse than I actually am? That I don’t need to beat myself up for not doing or being x, y, or z AND I can also allow myself a certain amount of satisfaction, a sense of self-worth, or even fulfillment about doing and being a, b, and c.

I count, the way I am, the life I’m living, today, as I am, as it is. It’s okay, I’m okay. Even wonderful. Now. I just am. You just are.

AND I get to make adjustments, downshift, upshift, bob, weave, get a new sectional sofa or hair color or political cause or publisher or rearrange the living room again if I want to and when I want to, but that’s all optional.

My entitlement to feeling at peace in this body, this existence, this home, today, is not contingent on any changes that must be made Or Else. The wrath of Evie, the habitual fear of inadequacy, need not drive my thoughts and actions today.

It turns out that dissatisfaction is not the rocket fuel for a better life I thought it was.

It turns out that contentment is not the gateway to a life of meaningless sloth I thought it was.

I get to choose. Right now. And now. I’m gonna keep going.