Life well lived

I'm looking back on the past few months and wondering how I could have possibly spent so little time doing the things that I know are good for me. Drinking coffee by myself, reading, journaling, exercising, listening to music--these things soothe me and stir my soul. How have I settled so easily into spending my time mindlessly waiting for life to begin, and hoping I won't miss the train?

I think I've gotten tired and discouraged. I've somehow come to believe that the fate of the world, or at least of my immediate world, hinges on my ability to complete a set of tasks, to buy the groceries, to pay the bills on time, to wash the dishes. And though those things certainly need to be done, it is clear to me that my spirit is being smothered under the pressure of an endless "to do" list.

So I've made a decision. From now on, I'm choosing to live my life. To do what I need to do for me.

A few days ago I took a step in the right direction. I went to Rockwood Bakery by myself, just to think and write. I wrote a letter to my youngest brother while listening to Yo-Yo Ma and soaking in the sunlight from outside.

Marc Hafso and Jeff Wirth were there too, and they stopped by my table on their way out the door. We ended up talking about a close friend of mine, whom Jeff also knows, and when I described her as "fantastic," Marc got that oh-so-Marc-ish twinkle in his eye, tilted his head toward me, and said "You're fantastic."

And you know what? I am fantastic. And no matter how much strain there is on my life, or how tired I may be from holding up too much weight, I can not forget who I am. I know that I was made for much greater things than watching Desperate Housewives on my laptop until bedtime; I know that I was created to live brilliantly, to shine, to exude light.

I'm done being dampened, and I'm ready for what comes next.