Oh my goodness, Shauna, Part 5 of this book, where do I start?
You write of the wrestle with people-pleasing and I nod my head.
You write of learning to have fun and play again, instead of living in constant hustle, and I utter a heart-felt, ‘Me too’.
For a number of years now I have been reflecting on my previous year and setting intentions for the year to come. In more recent years I have set aside a day to come and see my friend Amanda and go through those reflections in an intentional and structured way.
I have discovered a wonderful technique for dealing with the overwhelm of daily life. And that is asking the question ‘What’s on top?’
What is the first thing that comes to mind that is annoying you, or you just can’t shake that you need to do?
Today I took a ‘think day’ after reading a blog by Tsh Oxenrider of the Art of simple. The premise behind this day is allowing yourself space just to think about life. She quotes author Greg McKeown:
We need space to escape in order to discern the essential few from the trivial many. Unfortunately, in our time-starved era we don’t get that space by default—only by design.
I was in the middle of severe grief due to miscarriages, and I found this book called Bittersweet. I don’t recall what made me pick it up. Whether it was the picture of the crumbled chocolate on the front or the subtitle; ‘thoughts on change, grace and learning the hard way’.
Either way, it found its way home with me. As I read it, often with tears in my eyes, I was so grateful for this author Shauna Niequist. She managed to articulate her own pain in such a way that she gave me words to express mine.
I don’t really feel the year has started properly until school kicks in … any one else like me?
So I am looking forward to school starting again next week and the return to routine.
But I am also going to be a little sad. We have 18 summers with our kids before they are adults and I want to soak up every day of each one.
Does that mean that it has all been sweetness and light over here? You have to be kidding me! But I have done some things that have kept me (and the girls) sane this holidays.
I knocked at her hotel door in floods of tears. I had spent the day touring the killing fields and torture centre of Phnom Penh. I thought I’d been doing okay.
I’d come back to the hotel and spoken with my family. I had eaten lunch and washed off the grime from the morning in the pool.
But as I sat in my hotel room vainly trying to read, I discovered an experience like that doesn’t wash off easily.