There are few things so beautiful as a barefoot little girl in pink capris, spinning around on her porch singing to herself, “I’m a rockstar! I’m a rockstar!”.
It was a simple and powerful moment. And it happened as I was digging my keys out of my purse to let myself into the apartment. If I didn’t stop for a moment, I would have listened only to the jingling, focused solely on getting into the house so I could leave whatever was outside behind. And then the little girl next door reminded me of what I was missing out on.
A few weeks ago, I was my worst self – and I’m saying that honestly. I was detached and unfocused and totally absorbed in nonsense – and that’s just what it was: nonsense. I become so soaked in excuses and self-deprication that I couldn’t even take a step back to realize that things are going to be okay. No matter how crazy things get, it’s really going to work out in one way or another. Realizing that takes the power out of fear. It deflates that bubble of anxiety and worry and doubt that tends to sit on us when we become overwhelmed with the realization that there’s a decision that needs to be made or an action that needs to be taken. You’re avoiding doing something, but you haven’t stopped to realize it yet.
It’s easy to make excuses. Hell, it’s comfortable. It’s simple to just push what you’re really feeling inside and instead dwelling on those little shimmers of grief that seem to slip their way into your optimism. You become a dream zapper for others, but more devastatingly, yourself.
That week, I was an asshole. Pure and simple. Instead of connecting with others or even myself, I buried and pushed aside and hid and sulked. It was easy to feel pity and frustration. It was easy to slip into old bad habits and anger. Easy, easy, easy.
And then, the little girl next door reminded me that I didn’t have to be like that. I could be happy and satisfied. I could be proud and excited about what was going to happen in the next 15 minutes or the next five years. I could stop playing games in my own head and focusing on everything that was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Nothing’s really wrong. It just is. It’s a matter of seeing that it just is and recognizing that you can either change it or change the way you feel about it.
Tomorrow, I’d like for you to tell yourself that you’re a rock star. Spin around if you have to. I’ll be doing it too.