When my hormones are even-keeled and I am in a place of stillness, I feel the contentment just at the edges of my mind again. Kind of waving and reminding me that it's there and it's possible to meet up again. And it feels good. It feels possible. I know the path towards a peaceful mind is one that requires patience and practice and, above all else, constant work.
And so I'm working. Constantly.
The irony about something that appears simple is that this is only the "appearance." The appearance of most beautiful things usually hides the sweat and dedication behind perfecting each detail. A professional ballerina makes it look effortless as she glides across the stage, sparkling in rhinestones and crinolines but anyone with half a brain KNOWS that there were years, probably DECADES, of muscle training, bruised limbs, twisted ankles, broken dreams, and countless days of gorgeous weather spent inside to achieve that seemingly effortless glide.
A peaceful mind is no less difficult.
It is so easy to allow doubts and heartache to clutter my mind. It is so easy to fall into the pattern of comparing myself to others, and the perceptions formed from their outward appearances.
It is so easy to be unhappy and depressed.
Being happy? That takes WORK. It requires a constant effort and struggle to find a balance between our wants and needs and the pressures of life.
I remind myself, once again, that life has no finish line. There aren't any prizes or awards for being the best "fill-in-the-blank" and the only person who will know if I feel regret or peace upon the moment of my death will be ME. Will I regret not having an organized house and life or will I regret missing moments spent laughing with those I love?
And so I take the time to play card games in my pajamas instead of wash laundry. And I take a long bath instead of mailing out Christmas cards. I say Yes to activities that make me happy and No to those that will not. Life is still hectic and faster-paced than I care for, but it's manageable and I am able to float within it and breathe.
Poetry Month in our Homeschool - Sure, you *can *force a kid to read a book. Any book, actually. But you *can't* force a child to love to read. You can't push and push literature on them a...
1 year ago