The New Year has been quiet. Allowing moments of clarity. Days of reflection. Minutes of acceptance. And if the kids weren’t home, a few hours of peace.
Whispers and echoes of past resolutions bugged me for the first few days of 2015. Old promises and regrets cast a hazy spell, making it difficult to concentrate. I sifted through my thoughts. Plucking out the negatives. Trying to resolve this foreign feeling that had invaded.
As the haze of confusion dissipated, I was determined to accept the beautiful mess, that is my life. I felt clearer. Less cluttered.
Last year, I was busy reorganizing and redefining my path. Time was spent chipping away at pre-conceived notions, empty relationships, and road blocks.
My outlook on life has changed since the start of this blog. And honestly, I feel better about what lies ahead.
“Hard” is a good word for the past 12 months. Admitting that you have not lived life, like it should be lived, is disappointing.
The bright spot in this “discovery” was that happiness seemed to be woven throughout each change and every decision I made.
I decided to finally accept myself – for me – and no one else.
Life is still messy. It will forever be hectic. I foresee my days filled with the stress of cranky children, writing blunders and faulty life decisions.
(Anything less would be boring, right?)
The “Whose Child are You?” days can quickly morph into “You are so cute, you take after me!” days. (Or Vice versa.)
It’s a crap shoot. One that I will continue to play.
What will be, will always find a way. And by choosing acceptance, I can create good from crazy. I can dry my tears and laugh at my own expense. I can accept the messiness and not lose sight of my own happiness.