I’ve got 3 confessions and the last one is a doozy. I’ve heard it’s freeing to put what is in the dark out there into the light.
If you are feeling “priestlike” and wish to comment, question, or grant absolution, please be gentle.
I have not followed through. Again.
I could dedicate this confession to numerous scenarios. So instead of specifics, let it be a blanket that covers both important and non-essential parts of life. I am sorry for failing those who have counted on what I told you I would do. I apologize to those who I have disappointed because my great idea and good intentions fell flat once again. I am aware of my great burst of enthusiasm coming out of the starting blocks as well as my lack of stamina around the track.
I confess this knowing there are those who will encourage with the fellowship of “me too.” I confess this hoping there are those who have overcome the failure of follow-through with successful strategies and will share.
I am discontent.
I ponder “what’s next, what else, what’s new” more often than I soak in gratitude for “what is.” I do find myself bordering on being happier with less – to have, to do, to want – however I still view the status quo as lacking.
I confess this because I am just over the hump of everything everyday feeling so new, and I wonder about where I go from here. I am creating create my own chaos! I wonder if this is due to the intensity of quitting a job; leaving my friends/family; coordinating the selling of our home; packing-unpacking-packing-unpacking, trying to find a temporary landing zone in a foreign land; saying goodbye; reaching out to the unfamiliar; missing home and all my people at home; experiencing significant change; & learning a ‘new language’? The intensity and pace have dwindled and my brain isn’t sure how to settle here.
Does the ‘why’ matter? The fact is: I am swimming in discontentment. Yuck.
Lifeline back to shore anyone?
I can hardly write these words. Some things are very personal. This confession may actually humiliate me. Yep it will. Here goes…
I like my haircut.
Nearly 8 weeks post Turkish disaster, I must confess the crazy layers thinned my thick mop enough to keep me cooler. The wild new doo doesn’t require much time under the blow dryer as there is not much to do with it. I will once again look at myself in the mirror without horror. Who knew something so unfortunate could turn out alright.
Please no “I told you so’s.” That is not an appropriate response for one who just bared her soul.
Ahhhhh. I feel better already.