Do you remember this day when I told you that I was participating in the NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) challenge and then vowed to write here every day for the whole month of November? Well, do you remember those couple of days after November 14, when I didn't write to you from Mexico and then yesterday when I skipped writing again? I thought you might. You're hard to sneak things by. So, I guess it's time to address the elephant in the room, or on the blog, as the case may be.
I HAVE FAILED AT NABLOPOMO.
I made it all of about 13 consecutive days and then promptly fell off the writing wagon. I wanted to write to you every day, but I just couldn't/didn't hold up my end of the bargain. You held up your end. You came to read. And I thank you for that (really, I am so thankful to you for each visit). But, I failed. I flat out failed.
You know what though? I don't really feel badly about it. I don't really feel badly at all about it. Maybe I should, but I don't. I was just writing to someone the other day about not beating yourself up over taking some days off of running and it dawned on me that the same goes for just about everything in life.
We are wasting way too much time beating ourselves up over silly things like not logging that extra mile or not writing a blog or not cooking the perfect 3 course meal and instead picking up something pre-made at the deli. There are a thousand ways in which we "fail" every day. But, when you really look at it, all we are failing at are some preconceived notions we put on ourselves of what we "should" be doing. I don't have to run. I don't have to write. And I certainly don't have to be the perfect homemaker (please, oh please tell me I don't have to be the perfect homemaker, because I am terrible at it). I do some of these things because I want to, because I like to, and because they bring me joy. And some of the things I do simply because we have to eat. The problem with setting the arbitrary expectations on ourselves is that we are the only people who are being are let down. There isn't another person in the world who is upset if I only squeeze in three runs a week instead of five. No one knows the elaborate meal I had planned for them before I got so busy that it ended up as Chinese takeout. Not one single other person cares if I don't lose those two pounds I've been swearing to get rid of. We've got to stop with the beating up of ourselves by ourselves. Come on, if the rest of the world is okay with you just as you are, what is it you're doing being so miserable?!?
***PS - This post might feel a little like my last post. I didn't intend for it to be repetitive, but I guess the whole idea of lightening up on myself is really on my mind right now. I'm starting to realize that I've been holding myself hostage for all of the things that I'm not, or haven't done, or still need to do for way too long. I'm s-l-o-w-l-y learning that the only person judging me is me and that I've been sentencing myself to a ton of unnecessary misery.
***PS - This post might feel a little like my last post. I didn't intend for it to be repetitive, but I guess the whole idea of lightening up on myself is really on my mind right now. I'm starting to realize that I've been holding myself hostage for all of the things that I'm not, or haven't done, or still need to do for way too long. I'm s-l-o-w-l-y learning that the only person judging me is me and that I've been sentencing myself to a ton of unnecessary misery.
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