sometimes....the first thing i do when i awake is scan my inbox to make sure there isn't an unhappy customer. if all is well: freedom. relief. on the rare occasion that there is an unhappy email, i immediately fix whatever has gone wrong - most often a shipping error. but every morning, again, and again, as if i'm feeding my own addiction, i peer into my inbox, half expecting to find an email with proof of how i've failed. it's driving me mad, this anxious feeling of holding onto a perfection that doesn't exist - the compulsion to find or expect self disappointment. yet i also know and fully accept that i am going to make mistakes. i am going to get upset emails every now and again. not everyone is going to love the book. not everyone thinks i'm the bees knees.
i'd really like to get to a place where i don't carry all the worry in my chest. where i don't always anticipate that something may go wrong. because here's the truth: inside the reality of my daily life, mostly everything goes really well, yet in my heart i sometimes expect that a disaster is waiting for me just around the corner, that the world isn't truly safe and i'd better watch out. i've been this way for years - often worrying that the marriage and life i've nurtured and grown into is simply too good to be true. sometimes, i can fully fall into the bliss. and sometimes, like this week, i wear the armor, ready for the sky that never falls. it's a burden i don't want to carry anymore. it's a needlessness. a disguise. a dishonoring of spirit. i'd like to not wake up in the morning with the expectation that something horrible is lurking in my inbox. i'd like to wake up fully aware that all is going to be well, everyday. i'd like to wake up, even for a few moments, with a sincere freedom from perfection and worry. what does that feel like, i wonder?
it's a reoccurring battle for me, this accepting of all the goodness of my life without the hint that danger may be closeby. i'm working on it...but sometimes, it's exhausting. but i suppose it's the human experience, no?























Facebook: 








