To say that this summer was crazy may be a bit of an understatement.
Between weddings…making fun of Sandra Lee…putting on body wash thinking it was body lotion…procrastinating…weekend trips to Chicago…obsessing over full-fat cream cheese…eating peanut butter + mozzarella pizza…kicks…not working out…riding Princess Helga around town…special visitors…bachelorette parties…moving apartments…more weddings…you’ve heard me complain about the chaotic circus that was my life. But now that summer has sadly started dissippating, I am realizing that was exactly the problem: I was complaining.
I was complaining about celebrating LOVE 10x over.
I was complaining about not having enough time to do the things I want to do and accomplish the things I want to accomplish with the precious time I wasn’t working at my full-time job.
I was complaining about my horrible landlord (<- this one was warranted).
I was complaining about being attacked by a drunken man wearing a red dress in New Orleans who lurched his booze-filled head towards mine in attempt to make out with me but instead bit my bottom lip, causing it to bleed (<- also warranted).
I was complaining, whining and repeatedly musing over my supposed ‘woes’ and allowing myself to rationalize not taking care of myself. Not eating right. Not exercising. Not having the time or energy to pursue my goals. Not taking responsibility for my life.
In other words, I made excuses.
And as a result, I found my Everythingtarian self in one big funk. Nothing seemed to go right this summer for me – not my job, not my love life, not my running life, not my blog life, not my friend life, not my anything or everything life. Because I didn’t let it. I began to expect the worse…predict only the negative outcomes…and allow myself to become swallowed in the dark, deep abyss that is wallowing in unwarranted self-pity.
I could see myself falling.
I felt myself falling.
But I just let it happen and then complained about it when it did.
I am a lucky, blessed person, but even so, it is still much easier to complain than to be happy. It is much easier to lament your personal shortcomings instead of taking the initiative to improve them. It is far too easy to wonder why others attract success while you seem to be floundering like a fish on its last breath of life. And it is just too dang easy to write about embracing imperfection…accepting yourself for who you are…being positive…and letting go of the past instead of actually taking your own advice.
But the beautiful part of this life is that it gives us a new beginning.
Or rather unending new beginnings, as in the words of my 6th-grade-band-obsession Semisonic, “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” Thank you Mr. Bonshire for introducing me to this 90’s has-been band.
What I am trying to say is that health is more than just food or exercise. Health is about treating ourselves right, believing that we deserve the very best this world has to offer and mentally rewiring our brains to function in a way that is going to help us…not hurt us. And even an Everythingtarian like myself needs to remind herself of this too.
Sooo…consider me reminded.