Three weeks ago I woke up feeling crappy. I ate some citrus, made myself a green juice and taught my yoga class. By noon I was on the couch with a fever. I am not a fever kinda girl. I get the annual cold where I am laid out for a week with a stuffy nose but that’s it.
I spent my days in a fever haze, taking vitamins and hot baths, using a cold compress on my forehead and feet, eating more citrus than I normally eat in an entire year, and yet I was running close to 101 temperatures and every day at around 2pm my fever would spike to 102. After 10 days it was clear I wasn’t getting better. I went to my local urgent care and I found out I had the flu that turned into a pneumonia.
If you are on the east coast like me you may be slowly edging towards the opening of your cave, taking a long stretch, and preparing to re-emerge into the world. I actually wish I was a bear. Imagine going to sleep at the start of winter and just taking a nice long nap until it got warm!
I realized this past week that I’m not a mean girl anymore. Those of you who know me are thinking, ‘but she’s so nice’. Yeah, I’m nice…to you. I’m talking about how I treat myself.
an acceptance that a statement is true or that something exists.
I’ve read that most of our beliefs are pretty much set by the time we are seven. When I first heard this I was floored and pictured myself, at seven, with my green unicorn t-shirt, running my life….forty years later. Fun coincidence that Seven is the name of my memoir.
I’ve spent all my life either saying nothing or telling it all.
People would piss me off and I would pretend it didn’t happen. That worked for a while, until it didn’t and then the anger, resentment, or disappointment came oozing out. Usually in a manner that lacked grace, through gossip, cheating, distancing, or picking fights.
I woke up this morning and freaked out. My house is a complete mess. I’m talking a shit show with piles on every available surface.
I immediately turned into the Tasmanian devil, running around picking things up, putting things away, and yelling at Fred, my husband,
How did things get this bad? This is ridiculous.
Honey, the house has been like this for weeks.
As I sat on the edge of the bed, pile of crap in hand, I realized he was right. Between my ten day cold and my trip to Rio, I had let things go and I hadn’t noticed.
And now, I was sitting here completely overwhelmed by it all. But the truth is it took at least a month for us to get here. Realistically it’ll take more than the half hour I have this morning to get us out.
I want to be successful, the best really, at everything I do. Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. If you ask my husband I have mastered the art of certain things like lollygagging, making soups, and shenanigans (yes lallygagging and shenanigans are quite different things).
“The Mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” John Milton
According to The Happiness Advantage, an incredible book filled with research by Shawn Achor, we are in the midst of an unhappiness epidemic. I didn’t need him to tell me that. All I have to do is put on the news or a popular television show to see what turns us on, what we are drawn to, what sells. It’s the negative.
I am working on the proposal for my book, Seven a Memoir, and decided that I wanted to turn it in three weeks early. I became fixated on writing the seventy page proposal within that deadline and, when it was more work than I realized, I wouldn’t budge.
I was holding on tight to this arbitrary date, this self inflicted definition of perfection. This led to a melt down three days before my due date, full on with tears, snots and a big dose of anxiety.