I noticed this the other day. Old habits can die hard, I guess. I know.
I was still trying.
Trying to rest well. Trying to do enough. Trying not to do too much. Trying to get it right, right, right.
As my new saying goes, I’m gonna let that shit go.
It makes sense that I’m trying. And that I have to sometimes try not to try. Trying was a coping mechanism when I was young. It was deeply engrained in me – taught to me as my heavenly duty – in the cult in which I was raised.
And I received a cancer diagnosis last year. That in and of itself can make one try so hard…just to get some semblance of control in an uncontrollable situation. In an uncontrollable world.
I’m also so aware of how much I’m ready to be done trying. To let go of getting it right, getting it done, getting it perfect (actually think I gave that one up long ago). To let go of making sure everything is finished – finished well – and everyone is happy – really happy.
To know that what’s yours is yours. What’s mine is mine. And whatever is, is fine. Just as it is.
It still takes stopping and noticing that I’m trying. I need to actively choose to pause. To slow down. To breathe. Especially to breathe.
I need to remind myself to shift and to smile and to be.
When I do, I can feel myself recenter on and with myself. I can put my hand on my heart (gently, because it’s still sore from my recent “no breast” surgery). I can also put my hand on my stomach, because that’s still healing from last year’s surgery. And chemo. And grief.
And I feel and I be.
It really is that simple…and that challenging at times. To take a break. To rest. To breathe. To know what’s mine. To remember to love myself first, most, and always.
I’d love to hear your thoughts, and please share this post with others if it resonates with you!
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