I recently took a photography class that was more about life than photography and was exactly what I needed.  During the class we were asked to keep a journal.  I’ve kept up the practice of journaling since the class ended.  I wanted to share what I wrote today.  It’s been a while since I blogged something this personal.  It feels a little unnerving but I think that’s ok!

36.  Thirty Six.

I realize that I am a mere 20 years younger than my mom was when she died.  There is something weighty about that.  Something a little bit startling.

In reality I know that my days on this earth are not measured against her’s.  But thinking about that ever ticking clock leaves me wondering if I’m doing it right.  If I’m living this one beautiful life right.

I think back on the last year and I know that “on paper” I am.  I am checking the right?! boxes.  But what about my heart, my soul?

When I look back on this last year the feelings that easily rush back are the ones of inadequacy, failure, frustration, exclusion, shame.  The moments where I felt like too much or too little.  The moments when I felt I was on the outside looking in.  The moments when my tongue was too sharp, my patience too short, my temper too loose.  The moments when the chaos of my house, my planner, my head was too much.  The interactions that play on a loop are the ones where I did wrong to someone or I felt wronged.

Yet these are just a sliver of the last year.  I know that it was a year filled with love and laughter.  Hope and grace.  I know these moments and these feelings of scarcity should pale in comparison to the feelings of gratitude, fullness and abundant blessings.

So why is it so much easier to call myself a bad mom because I snapped at the kids instead of a good mom for all the snuggles, kissed booboos, good meals and read books.  Why is it so much easier to say I’m not worthy because I’ve been left out by a few than realize how worthy and loved I am in the eyes of so many.

It strikes me that this is all about perspective.  All about the weight I give to moments, the weight I assign to feelings.  And I’m pretty out of balance.

I’ve lived the last thirty six years — or at least as far back as I can remember, giving more weight to the negative voice in my head.  The one whispering hurtful words.  I’ve been giving more weight to the negative feelings.  I’ve been taking the moments and feelings of worth and countering them with a loud “yes, but.” “yes but you’re too loud.”  “yes but she doesn’t like you.”  “yes but you yelled at him.”  “Yes.  But.”

That’s a lot of years choosing to listen to one voice.  Choosing to see through one lens while being deaf and blind to the other.  36 years is a long time to build some bad habits.

And maybe that’s exactly what this is — a bad habit.  Habits are breakable.  Habits are replaceable.  Maybe I can shift my perspective, break the bad habit, build some new ones and drown out that voice of scarcity.  Replace it with a voice of gratitude and abundance.  Replace it with the voice that says “yes, but”  in the face of disappointment.  “yes, but you are kind.”  “yes, but you are enough.”  “yes, but you love them.”  “yes, but you tried.”  “Yes. But.  You are worthy.”   Maybe it is all. about. perspective.

There is this concept of kairos time.  kairos is a Greek word use to describe time that transcends the measurable.  Time that stands still because of the fullness of the moment.  Kairos happens when you are fully present in the moment and the moment is full of meaning.  I am a feeler and this concept of full time really speaks to me.

I first read about kairos time here.  It’s worth a few minutes to read.  Once I had a word to name these moments I started taking note of them.

A ride to work on a Monday morning in March 2010 when the sun light streamed through the cherry blossom cover on Folin Drive.  It was the first time I remember seeing color after my mom died.  The moments was so heavy with feeling and attention that it transcended space and time.

Sitting on the carousel with Sam, hands clasped together, his laugh so easy, his smile crinkling in the corners of his eyes.  Colors blurring by.  “Baby of Mine” filling to cold night air.

These are the moments I feel most alive.  I need more kairos.

It all starts to gel.  Maybe, just maybe the difference between a life unfilled and a life overflowing is all about perspective and intention.

So as I sit here celebrating the start of another year, I’m coming to realize that I need to stop looking to the outside for that “good life” and start shining the light inward.  It’s time to break some old habits and start a new year with some new ones.

Here’s to intention, gratitude, abundance and joy!

Cheers.