The Beginning. Starting. The first time. This time. To begin anew. New Moon. New Day. New Sun. Wake up. Don't look back. The best is yet to come.
The ways I try to fire myself up to get on with an idea, a project, a lesson, a sense of renewal in my life expressed in all of the above. The truth is, it is hard for me to begin something if I think of it in terms of ongoing. However, I will give it my best shot - another euphemism for getting off my tush.
However, this is not really about getting off my tush. It's about restructuring a life which has, for the last 20+ years, been about raising my children the best I could while maintaining my own identity. An identity which has developed in those years, but really, has been tied to who I was when I began raising my kids.
Holding on. Holding on to myself for so long, so I wouldn't lose myself to the diapers first - well, truthfully - the husband first, then the diapers, then the myriad activities, then the divorce, then the other marriage and divorce, then the teenage angst, then the falling apart as I watched them hurt themselves, then the realization I was not in control, then the resurrection of sanity within them, then then then...
It's always been something, about something. I'm fifty years old now. To write the words is easier than to see the number, staring at me. I've always thought of 5 as my lucky number. That's a wake up! But five with a zero - no.
This is the first day. My intention? I can't stand stating intentions - it's so new-agey. I know my intention. Create commitment. The only commitment I ever kept was to my kids. I am not interested in wondering why really; I just want to transfer the commitment to my own life so I can survive for the sake of my own life. For the sake of the purposes I have come forth with into this life.
For every morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment