all the small things

in short today was not a good day. it's not really that surprising anymore. not to say i didn't get one or two surprises today. it's just that they were more the types of surprises that make you NOT like surprises anymore.

as i've been home, venting to peter, and mourning my loss of a safe place i've started thinking. as much as life honestly sucks right now i need to remember the small things. because there is good in the small things, even if it doesn't seem like there's any in the big ones.

an anthropologie catalog waiting for me when i get home.
a compulsion to write despite, maybe because of, all the junk
a cute outfit on a day i needed it
taking solace in doing the right thing
delish blood orange sorbet
good background music
the flow of creative juices
dreaming of better days
planning trips in my mind
my husband's confidence in spite of EVERYTHING
stories about life and life stories awaiting me on my bookshelf
the ability to go get exercise
the promise of good coffee in the morning

i'm trying so hard and yet EVERYTHING ELSE keeps popping into my mind. all the things i hate. all the things i want to forget.

there are many of them, falling over each other, fighting for the forefront of my mind. pushing out all the lovely things.

i always thought life would be different. more. i always thought i had more to give, more to offer, and yet i'm stuck in the suburbia of life. stuck worrying that this "american dream" is all there is. isn't there more than this? am i asking for too much?

by many accounts i have it good, and i honestly do realize that. my pessimistic genes get the best of me far too often, and i know that too.


is this really it?
is this all i'm called to?
why does it feel like it's not enough?
why does no one believe that a difference can be made in the world?
why do we constantly believe that everything will "never happen to me"?

cancer won't
car crashes won't
awful diseases won't
homelessness won't
we don't accept that anything bad
will happen to ME
nor do we think that we can truly
do anything really amazing
leave all the difference-making to people
who know what they're doing
i don't know how to do it
so i won't do
i'll sit on my hands and pretend
that it won't happen to me
and it's not my responsibility

it is.

i'd be a liar and an outright hypocrite if i tried to pretend that i don't fall prey to this way of thinking every single day of my life.

just because the main character doesn't die until the end of the story (if s/he dies at all) doesn't mean that nothing will happen to me simply because i'm the main character of my own life.

it just doesn't work that way.
it's not really our story to tell
we're simply the characters
in a story which is
wholly about
someone else.

it's the director's story
the creator's story

and just because i was created
with a purpose
doesn't make the purpose
about me.

OUCH. the truth hurts.


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