The Living Years...

I woke up the other day and found a message waiting in my in box. I felt the email energy and knew just who it would be from. For a few days, I had been corresponding with someone and expected a tit back for my tat. And sure enough- there it was. I’d been secretly fretting over the response and hoped as mature adults, we could see each other’s point of view. I skimmed the email, heart racing, and the first thing that came to my mind at 6:30 in the morning was, “Oh please! You’re so clueless.” And just like that, I scampered around my bedroom, got ready for the gym, and nonchalantly mentioned the email to my husband. We both laughed, went back and forth about conspiracy theories, and inevitably concluded that some people really suck at communicating! After spending seven and a half more minutes of my life on this nonsense-  I decided that I wouldn’t waste another second worrying, complaining, or obsessing about something I had no control over.

 

In all honesty, this same scenario would’ve had the “old me” reeling for days. I can picture it now…I imagine reading the email, jolting my husband out of his peaceful sleep, and evoking my inner sailor’s penchant for curse words and angry snarls. With hands flailing and visions of committing lewd acts on my cyber nemesis- I would’ve simply allowed myself to stew on frustration and conclude that not only do people suck at communicating, but that the chip on my shoulder seemed to be getting heavier by the minute. My long and tumultuous love affair with over reacting, sweating the small stuff, and feeling powerless to change was after all, a nasty habit that I just couldn’t shake.  And while I’d love to tell you that one day I woke up, read a dozen “Chicken Soup for the Soul” books, and made 3 decades of carefully crafted insecurities magically disappear- we all know that things are never as easy as they seem. 

But, with a little soul searching and honesty I began to welcome clarity and perspective into my life. Instead of letting my pride and ego ruin my sensibility, I began to do, say, and act from the heart. I let my guard down in order to experience a world outside my comfort zone,  and I began to regain control over who, where, and what I am. In my dad's last letter to my siblings and I he wrote, “it’s not what life did to you but what you’ve done in your life.” For a man with so little time in this world, he sure knew how to live! And you...are you living the dream? Do tell...