I strive to remember this every single day.
I’m a raging control freak!
I need to control my own environment. I have to control what goes on around me so I remain safe and sane.
I’m learning to breathe more and worry about controlling what happens less.
I’m learning to trust the process. I’m learning the Journey is at least as important, if not more so important than the Destination.
I’ve mastered trusting my gut.
And the rest will follow…because I trust myself.
Posts Tagged With: trust your gut
I strive to remember this every single day.
I recently decided it’s time for me to go back into therapy. I did a little research and found someone I thought I might like. After a bit of phone tag, she and I finally talked for about twenty minutes and made an appointment.
I saw her Tuesday and we instantly began to connect. She has a decent sense of humor and appreciates my snark.
Before we said goodbye, she asked me: What is your intention for your life? How do you intend to live your life? She told me the answer must be one word and one word only. That then I would have to define this word. Not via Webster’s or Oxford English, but my own definition. What does the word I choose as my intention mean to me? She suggested I use all my senses. What does is look and feel and taste like? She wanted me to journal this.
This fascinated me. I was electrified at the idea of this task.
From the moment she asked the question, my entire being knew the word I would use.
But I stopped for a second and promised myself to sit with it for a while before answering. And I did. (sit with it, that is) The word never changed.
I came home and wrote in my journal.
What is my intention for my life? How do I intend to live my life?
The word is: love
How do I define love?
love is everything
love is paying attention to myself and everyone around me
love is being mindful
love is dancing in the rain
love is jumping in puddles
love is warm and soft
love knows what’s up
love is spending time behind the lens of my camera
love is writing
love is the girlie giggles of my girls together
love is learning
love is books
love is music
love is movies
love is kindness
love is a sincere apology
love is feeling everything but never feeling terribly overwhelmed
love sounds like giggles
love looks like a beach sunrise
love smells like an old bookshop
love is a bicycle bell
love is delicious kisses
love tastes like fresh strawberries
love is baseball season
love is the crack of a bat
love is the cool crisp air of autumn
love is Saturday mornings on the porch with YBW
love is me at home in my own skin
love is great conversations with dear friends
love takes its time
love is knowing what’s right in my gut
love is feeling hopeful
love is being peaceful
love is being creative
love is collaboration
love is being stimulated in my brain
love is sacred memories
love is knowing I always do my best
love is a hot bubble bath
love is cool drinking water
love is emotionally embracing everybody I care about most
love smells like peonies
love is art
love is the arts
love is pointe shoes and tutus
love is faith
love is being kind
love is doing what’s right even and especially when I don’t want to
love is learning from my mistakes
love is defending the innocent
love is teaching and learning
love is new experiences
love is robin birds
love is a good pedicure
love is creating
love is strength and vulnerability
love is taking a big breath
love is being patient
love is fighting the good fight
love is knowing I’m enough
Now I’m not sure if that’s exactly what Mezeline had in mind…but that’s my version of how I intend to live my life…with love.
Billy Wilder said,
“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own instead of someone else’s.”
This speaks straight the core of me.
My instincts reside in my gut. I trust my gut above all else.
That brain of mine might be bright, but the propensity to obsess negates my instincts. And my heart, while it loves with an endless ferocity, is so busy feeling every last thing that it’s rather useless when it comes to instincts.
“Your mistakes might as well be your own.”
Were ever truer words spoken? I’m so serious!
Every single time I’ve voiced my instincts and they were not heeded, something’s blown up in somebody’s face. That includes me too, y’all.
BUT(!!) sometimes I have trusted my gut and still had things blow up in my face. That’s OK too.
When provoked, I tend to be reactive. I’ll make a snap decision and then stand on my principles until the cows come home…then stand on the cows, you know?
I won’t back down. That’s my stubborn streak. Even if I’d like to “take back” something I said or did, I won’t. Because I stubbornly stick to my guns, however much I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face. (Yeah, yeah, mixed metaphors, what are you going to do?)
So, if I’ve made a mistake, I’ll admit it…but only to myself. The important part of mistake making is having the strength to own it. I can’t change anything I’ve said or done…sometimes they’re mistakes, other times, not so much…whatever the outcome, I’m content in knowing I made the choices.
We’re all going to make mistakes.
The important part is to remember this: If you’re not trusting your instincts, you’re not making your own decisions, which means you’re not making your own mistakes.
Trust your instincts enough to make your own mistakes. I promise you it’s worth it.
The painters are here again this morning. They’re Spanish speaking and the foreman has a little radio on his belt while he paints my front door. The morning DJs are speaking Spanish but they just played Will Smith’s Men in Black. It made me giggle.
That movie came out the summer Thing 2 was born. My precious sister in law had Thing 1 with her while Thing 2 was born. They came to the hospital to visit and Thing 1 sang the Men in Black song to me. It was the first time I heard it. And though I’ve seen (and loved) the movie, I always think of that moment in the hospital when my three year old blonde pigtailed girl sang me a song to cover her sadness that she couldn’t hold her baby sister because she was in the NICU.
I had plans to go the farmer’s market this morning with my neighbor, but I can’t leave the guy kneeling in the doorway painting the front door. So we wait…and perhaps a farmer’s market trip turns into afternoon cocktails when her kids wake from their naps. They’ll paddle in the baby pools on their back deck while they’re mommy and I enjoy champagne cocktails.
The lula launch was a success! So many ladies in our basement going through and trying on clothes for about three hours. It was a fun estrogen fueled evening. When the trying on of clothes went on too long in the bedroom, there were flashes of undies and bras as they decided not to care and just began trying on clothes where they stood. Reminded me of high school.
There was a great deal of “Oh girl, YES!” and “You NEED that!” and “Your ass is perfection in that skirt.” as encouragement. We offered opinions and compliments and ideas for new and different outfits. I had a ball!
AND I had great sales, booked one online party and had one friend ask questions about becoming a consultant.
Overall I’d say it was a success!
I interviewed for a job at one of the local elementary schools yesterday, it’s a part time position as a “cafeteria hostess” this means I get to spend four hours a day with young children without the rigors and responsibilities of running a classroom. The AP and I got on beautifully, she was impressed with my passion and experience for early childhood education. I was impressed that she feels so strongly about learning through play. It felt right. I want it to be my new school family.
I was offered a position at my old, old preschool. Three days a week in the classroom I originated. I met with the director, liked her, and put a great deal of thought into the offer.
But that was telling. I put thought into the offer, but I felt nothing. I didn’t know it in my gut. I had to think about it. And that means it’s not right for me.
Of course I never considered the practical things: The ridiculous commute. The tiny salary.
I just waited for my gut to know. And because it never did, I’m going to turn down the offer. This will create sadness at the school, especially for the individuals who suggested I “come home” in the first place. But if I’m not true to me, how can I give those children and their families what they need?
I’m thinking of a line from Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity:
“I’ve been thinking with my guts since I was fourteen years old, and frankly speaking, between you and me, I have come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains.”
I always trust my gut.
My gut does not have “shit for brains”.
When my brain tries to logic and my heart simply feels, my gut tells them to get it together and makes clear the right choice.
I trust that.
Is it weird to be sad about not getting something I didn’t really want in the first place?
I received a voicemail from the woman I interviewed with Monday before the wedding. She regretfully informed me that though I was more than qualified, they went with someone who could start sooner than I could.
It turns out that they wanted someone to start before I even left the country for my honeymoon.
I was completely upfront about my availability when she called to schedule the meeting. If they knew they needed someone to start when I couldn’t, why did they waste their time? Why did they waste my time? Why did my kid sit in a cold car for an hour instead of being warm and shopping with her mom?
I had actually gotten to the place where I didn’t think I was going to take the job, but that’s not the point. I wouldn’t even have had to consider it if they had been upfront with their needs.
I’m not sure why I’m irritated. I’m not sure why I’m a bit hurt. But I do know that my gut was right. This was not the position for me.
And a complete waste of my time!
So I continue to be a hausfrau for a while. I’ve cleaned like a mad woman today and it feels so good! Every bit of the laundry is clean and mostly put away. I’m finally getting the house back to normal after the chaos of all the kids here and leaving it a hot hot mess to go to Barbados. I’m getting back to normal in my sleep patterns and my writing. I (mostly) know who I am and what I want.
I’m going to the neurologist Thursday to have my brain checked.
I’m listening to Edith Piaf and drinking gatorade while I take a break to write this.
It’s a good day to be me.