I remember once my mother fussing about the house in anticipation of company arriving. Family actually. Dusting high and low, mopping the floor, unwittingly making a striking cocktail of mustard gas, all in the name of clean. In the name of perfection.
My father, in a moment of sanity hollered back at her from a distant room. “You know dear, this is not the cover of a magazine. People do live here. And the people who are coming know that people live here.”
I am passing this word to you.
Your life is not an Instagram post
You don’t have to pretend you are not alive, that you are not be-ing.
You will leave for work from a dirty house.
You will go months or years without exercising to birth your dream.
You will go months or years without exercising even if you’re not birthing a dream.
You will miss the mark on major projects and events. You will forget to return emails and messages.
You will embarrass yourself, make promises you are not able to keep.
There will be flat tires and computer viruses, spilt coffee on foreign business executives.
People will think you are stupid, lazy, or inept. They will tell you so.
You will sabotage good relationships, betray yourself and sell out on your values so you can eat the next day.
There will be days, months, even years of darkness, confusion, mind-boggling and soul-crushing depression.
But, there will be plenty of good times, good moments, blissfully peaceful moments
If you’re still enough, you can feel the bliss even when things are bad.
Because those moments are not some post. They don’t last.
Forgive yourself for all of it. It’s okay to go on being. Someone is living here.

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