I wish I could write helpful posts here, such as “How to survive an international move without losing your mind” or “How to raise children without losing your mind” or even “How to wake up every morning before the sun rises. Without losing your mind”. But, I don’t seem capable of writing words of the self-help variety, and I think I might have an unhealthy pre-occupation with losing my marbles.
I started three different posts today, but like Goldilocks visiting the home of the three bears, none of them fit quite right. Instead, I’d like to invite you to pull up a chair. Let’s sit together. Can I tell you where my head and heart are today?
My head is firmly stuck in my memoir writing class right now, and I feel like I am lying in a bed that is entirely too big for me. I can never fill it up, and this causes me to question myself and my writing in ways I thought I’d previously settled. I write alongside other students who appear larger than life on paper, who fill up the walls of the cottage by lining it with words, and whose stories echo deep into the woods. My story sounds small by comparison, and so I contemplate moving along to another bed that fits me better. There are a few more I might crawl into and try, but something in my heart tells me to stay. To lie down in the too big bed and embrace the discomfort. Roll around in the extra space, make a mess of the pillows, recognize I am, indeed, small.
I wonder if sometimes we need to hear the stories of the small, and take back our delight in the everyday. I want to wrap my arms around the joys and the sorrows of dirty shoes piled at the front door and spiders spinning webs on the deck chairs and stacks of books with dog-eared pages. I need to hear these stories, and I need to write them too. I need to remember that life is beautiful, even when it feels too big, too small, or occasionally just right. My life tells a story of small triumphs over the everyday. Yours probably does too. Right now, I choose to lie in a bed that feels too big for my small frame and I will revel in it.
Tell me, where do you find your head and heart right now? What’s your latest triumph, big or small?