Waffling

Day One of this journey began by waffling between lethargy, doubt, overwhelmed determination, and a pizza.

Day one is supposed to be the first day of a fitness program.

Well.

So Day Two.

See, I have all sorts of excuses for why I wanted that pizza. Mainly I was lazy, worn out, tired, and hungry. My HEC was not in check. Hunger kept running around the house, chasing the two little kids, tossing toys about one after the other, pulling the birthday decorations off the walls. Energy twisted her ankle earlier and pulled every muscle in her legs when we were doing jump squats with twenty pounds weights and the instructor asked why she was flopping around on the floor. Cravings kept standing in front of the pantry, seeing if the graham crackers had gone stale yet, and shoving chocolates down her throat because she wasn’t sure how many rejection emails she could take.

And that is why my HEC was out of check, and why we move forward with a kiss into the air and a half-hearted shrug.

You see, I am one self-doubting little person. (Or not so little, as some recent pictures would whisper and nudge, nudge.) I am very shy and have almost zero percent faith in my abilities to do anything more than making a cup of coffee in the morning. I can push a button on the Keurig. So far, I haven’t messed that up.

So when I set off, throwing my pink polka dotted satchel over my shoulder and attempting to whistle any kind of tune, I am very aware of the crowd that is not watching. I’d like to be Someone Respected. I’d like to be Somebody Who Makes A Difference. I’m super awesome at being Someone In The Background. Not sure if that last one can get me where I can to go. But it’s written on a certificate somewhere, so it has to mean something.

This 30 Days that I am starting will be ups and downs, and I know I can do it because I have mostly done it before. Writing about it and inspiring others, well, that is the trick, isn’t it? Because “writing” and the characteristics of it do not seem to be an all-too-respected career. Anybody can write, right? I mean, if you can tweet, then you can write. Waa waa.

I’ve written millions of words in my life but I don’t know if they are doing anything that matters. So what matters? What will ignite a person to hit the “I like that” button or share it? Because I don’t seem to have that figured out. Am I too self-involved? Probably. Do people not share because they think I’m too big for my britches? (I am on the verge, guys, I know, that’s why I wear yoga pants all the time!) Do people not share because they know I’m just a silly old soul who is quirky and awkward at short conversations and says the absolute wrong thing at the wrong time? Am I just not cool enough? Am I not nice enough? Am I not memorable enough?

That’s what the thought process goes like.

Apparently many people have these thoughts, because there are books and books about it. Dang it. Stop it, people!

No, I’m kidding. Just joshing ya. Keep on writing. If you have a talent, pursue it. If you have a goal, lunge toward it. If you have a restless yearning, seek the source.

If the plans are not working out, make different plans.

Perhaps your greatest fault is your beauty, nestled securely beneath your doubts. You have a uniqueness, a gift, which is a source of joy for you. May you claw your way into the dirt and mire to recapture that treasure, and with sweat dripping down your temple, glisten beneath the scathing sun. That gift can only be used by your precious hands and others need to see it. You need to appreciate it. You need to feel connected to your Maker by using that gift.

Maybe you haven’t found it yet, or maybe you are too afraid to seek it, or even think about finding the time to use it.
 
But when you use that gift, the voices in the background grow dimmer, the light above grows brighter, and the ether begins to tilt in your direction.

Day Two begins tomorrow. We have no guarantee that the journey will last any longer than today, so please, let’s explore the path while we still have time. My daughter will often say, “I’ll do it next time,” like when we were indoor skydiving and she was petrified to enter the chamber for the second whirling ride. Honey, there may not be another time. Sweetpea, this is all we have.

Waffle with me a little bit this evening, and I hope you will check back tomorrow. We can travel together, sharing those last bites of birthday chocolates, and giggle about how stinking delicious Cinnabon coffee creamer tastes. Stand in the light with me. This is what we got, this is what we gain, and these little moments strip away the darkness.