Why is my heart restless and my mind unable to be stilled within me? I put my hope in the goodness of life, in the faith of abundance, in the security of unconditional love regardless of what challenges I face. Fear is nothing new. Feeling fear physically flood my body in the absence of any real threat or adversity is par for course in my life. Everything’s okay, and everything’s going to be all right. It’s true. I know it’s true. And yet, trying to convince my hormones is a different story. Even with medication, tears set up camp in my eyeballs eagerly awaiting the green light for a surprise charge. My chest aches, my stomach churns, and my throat constricts against my will. I force myself to breathe. I force myself to surrender. Acceptance is my only chance at joy and experiencing joy in spite of the fear is victory.

Is this what I really want? Maybe I struggle to find a sense of direction in life because I keep trying to swim upstream. Fighting the current is exhausting. Is it worth the effort? I don’t think so. Merely drifting isn’t safe either. If I make no effort to steer, I could end up in the weeds, hit a rock, or worse. I need to paddle, but I also need to allow myself to go with the flow. My stream might not always take me to where I want to be, but I can still trust it to lead me to where I need to go. So, what’s the point of trying to figure it all out anyway? Why bother to identify what I want in life if life is going to take me to the ocean regardless? Maybe it has less to do with my destination and more to do with the journey. Each day, it’s my responsibility to choose. I choose whether to enjoy the scenery. I choose how I allow others to treat me as our paths cross, and I choose how I will treat them. I choose my attitude and my gratitude just not my latitude. Life determines where I go. I determine what I focus on along the way.

• I have a future and a hope
• I have a future and a hope
• I have a future and a hope
• I have a future and a hope
• I have a future and a hope

Every time I get back on my feet, the waves leap up from the shoreline and sweep me back out to sea. Maybe life is meant to be lived adrift, in over my head, but like Disney’s Little Mermaid, “I want to be where the people are.” I want to sing and dance and walk around on my feet instead of struggling to stay afloat and trying to encourage myself with “just keep swimming, just keep swimming.” I tried to write this post yesterday, but I couldn’t. In spite of my firm belief that all things are working together for good, the uncertainty of the moment has my insides tied up in knots. It’s already decided. My girls are my highest calling. Nothing is more important to me than taking care of my children. They might all be grown adults now, but I’m still their mother, and they are still my future and always will be.

• I am super resourceful
• I am super resourceful
• I am super resourceful
• I am super resourceful
• I am super resourceful

In the days of Google, YouTube, and multiple social media platforms, there’s no longer an excuse for not being able to figure out how to do something, which has been my go-to for decades. My belief in my inability to find the information I need makes it difficult for me to see and/or to recognize the words appearing right in front of my eyes. It’s as though, if I’m able to lack understanding, I’m suddenly let off the hook. I no longer need to face my fears and do what I’m called to do with my life. We all have inner promptings, and we all have our favorite excuses we use for ignoring them. Every time I catch myself making an excuse or thinking up a justification for my behavior, I’m reminded of a sermon I heard years ago. The pastor attributed a quote to Abraham Lincoln as saying, “Those who are good at making excuses are rarely good at anything else.” It still feels like a kick to the gut and brings tears to my eyes. I want to be good at something other than rationalizing, but am I willing to do whatever it takes to get there?

• I am focused and fully committed
• I am focused and fully committed
• Iam focused and fully committed
• I am focused and fully committed
• I am focused and fully committed

My ADHD brain tries to hi-jack my life at every turn. Like a zombie, I roam about chanting “brains, brains, brains,” because my own brain has gone on vacation without me. My heart beats. I’m still breathing. A full diagnostic check reveals nothing; and yet the “check engine light” remains lit. I must be missing something. My whole life, I’ve felt as though I must be missing something. I don’t get the joke. Maybe that’s because I am the joke. Keep the people laughing with how empty-headed I seem to be so no one ever guesses how empty I really am. Close my eyes. Turn off the lights. Let sleep embrace me forever, and I never have to worry about feeling lonely ever again. Temptations of all sorts steamroll me continuously; and yet, I press on. I press on toward the prize of hearing “well done good and faithful servant.” Regardless of my circumstances, and definitely in spite of how I feel, I might have to continuously re-adjust my focus, but I keep at it and continue on.

• I am spectacular
• I am spectacular
• I am spectacular
• I am spectacular
• I am spectacular

The word “spectacular” has been stuck in my brain all day as I pondered the seeming redundancy of its meaning. “Spectate” means to watch, and “ocular” is relating to the eyes. So, does spectacular mean watching the eyes or having double-vision? No, it means “large-scale display.” I’ve spent my whole life shrinking back, withdrawing, and playing small. Other kids put me down when I was younger, as young kids tend to do, but it wasn’t long before others didn’t need to say anything at all. I expected to be rejected and did my best to remain invisible to prevent giving anyone fodder for making fun of me. My height, at 5’11”, already ensures I stand out. My ADHD causes me to seem like a goofball space cadet. My singing and dancing in public spaces as though no one is watching makes my sanity suspect. These are the negative ways I’ve learned to view my individuality. To be spectacular, however, requires me to allow myself to be seen. A large-scale display can be seen; that’s kind of the point.

• My lips speak words of life
• My lips speak words of life
• My lips speak words of life
• My lips speak words of life
• My lips speak words of life

The power of life and death really are in the tongue, not only in the words we say but also in the attitude and tone with which they are said. I’ve encountered many strangers over these past several days, and I’ve noticed the impact that our words, those spoken and those merely appearing as thoughts, have had upon each other. Hearing the sorrow, the joy, the pride, and the self-consciousness behind what was said came unexpectedly as I noticed myself paying more attention. Breaking free from our usual routines and automated patterns causes the colors of our ordinary world, which we often taken for granted, to suddenly pop with new brilliance and meaning. All I said was, “You’re a life saver,” as she handed me a small foam cup of coffee, and I meant it. My few words were met by a gleam in her eye and the quick flash of a grin. It’s nice to know that the seemingly minute, insignificance of daily living can bring life to another in unimaginable ways.

• I can accept what I cannot change
• I can accept what I cannot change
• I can accept what I cannot change
• I can accept what I cannot change
• I can accept what I cannot change

Posting on my blog was supposed to be a morning ritual, a way for me to wake up and begin my day with a positive framework, and affirmative state of mind. And yet, since I’ve been on the road, I’ve been driven, driven by fear and the tightness I get in my chest and throat when the fact that 99% of my life is utter and completely beyond my control gets thrown into my face with a devastating impact. During times such as these, the Serenity Prayer is the only thing that helps me get through the day. I usually don’t make it past the first line when I pray it out of necessity, but that’s okay because acceptance is really all I need to pray for.

• I am a kind and caring person
• I am a kind and caring person
• I am a kind and caring person
• I am a kind and caring person
• I am a kind and caring person

Of course other people are going to like me; I’m a kind and caring person. I like other people who are kind and caring, so other people who are kind and caring will like me too. Like attracts like, right? Okay, so, I actually really like people who are wise-asses and smartalics but only in a fun, humorous way. I like people who can be vulnerable and authentic with me. I have four daughters, and, of course, I love my girls, but I actually like them too. And, the things I like most about them are the qualities that I like the most in myself. I guess I already believe I’m a kind and caring person. I just don’t believe other people are going to like me as a result. That’s messed up.

• I am sweet, silly, and smart
• I am sweet, silly, and smart
• I am sweet, silly, and smart
• I am sweet, silly, and smart
• I am sweet, silly, and smart

When there’s nothing you can do and there’s nothing you can say to alleviate the hurt or make the problem go away, when you feel completely helpless and you’re sure you have been wronged, then you need to gather courage, read these words, and sing along.

The world will keep on turning. It spins too fast to stop. It’s a ball in space orbiting with no bottom and no top. The poles are just an axis around which the planet spins as each day provides us practice and a chance to start again.

I’m smart enough to know that I don’t need to know any of the answers in order to enjoy the journey. I’m silly enough go with the flow, even through the rough patches, without taking myself too seriously. I’m sweet enough to send blessings and wish others well, even those who don’t deserve it, and, truth be told, none of us deserve it.