It’s increasingly more difficult by the day to drown out the world’s noise and overlook the total chaos and destruction around us. There’s a war going on outside, and no one is safe. Between the literal war, global warming, the pandemic (which is still happening), inflation, and everyday life, it’s hard to feel like you have a handle on anything. Simply surviving or, better yet, winning the day seems like a revolutionary act. And honestly, in a lot of ways, it is. It’s incredible how resilient we can be in the face of adversity, even if it’s simply digging deep enough to keep going. By all accounts, there’s so much about life that would give any of us, at any given moment, good enough reason to just not [fill in the blank]. But yet, here we are. In some shape or form, we’re still going. Coming out of a rough stretch and finally seeing the light at the end of what has been a very long tunnel seemly moving within reach has ushered me into a complete state of contentment.
I’ve decided that I will count it all joy in all things. Now, that doesn’t mean I won’t allow myself to feel as I need to. Toxic positivity is no more healthy than wallowing is. However, as far as I still have to go, I am not where I was. There is something about the journey there that I’ve come to take absolute joy in. I’ve got plenty more pounds to lose, but I’m proud of my body and the shape that’s taking form. I haven’t even begun the level of success I’m about to achieve in my career, but it feels good to stand on my own two feet, bet on myself, and see the work ahead. I’m supported, loved, believed in, valued, and cared for by the incredible and unwavering people in my life. I’ve been given a soft place to land due to my leap, and the happiness it has allowed me to feel is beyond what I could have hoped for. My contentment isn’t authored by the what-ifs or why nots. It’s written in the certainty that there are plenty of things I can do with the things I can control. And for those things, I am to be grateful. I take hold of the reigns of my life and shape it into the beautiful wonder offered to me so long as I’m willing to push past the clouds to see it.
I hope you find contentment in the little things. The sun shining through, that delicious meal you had, the laughter with a friend, the look from a lover. The fact that today, just like yesterday, even if by the skin of your teeth, you made it through. I wish that your heart and soul cracks are filled with hope and excitement. What was, was good, and it might be hard to let it go, but what will be, now that’s where the real fun lies. Because this time, unlike the time before, you get to take the lessons you’ve learned and apply them to allow for a corrective experience. You get to unlearn unhealthy habits and rebuild new ones with a renewed sense of self even as you continue to discover who that is. There is room for a new lease on life, and I hope you sign yourself up for it and settle on in. I pray that you don’t lose small joys in the hope of big happiness. We all want to hit home runs in life, but there is something about hearing the ball hit the bat and making it to each base. Stand tall on your bases, take off your hitting gear in preparation for running, read the game, and move accordingly. Here’s to contentment, friends!
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