Last night, after a particularly long and draining day I almost posted a lament on FB about how tired I was. A post about all the icky parts of my weekend. But then I looked at my Instagram feed. And it occurred to me that I have nothing really to complain about. Looking over all my recent snapshots it was obvious that my life is filled with much more loveliness than ickiness.
Yes, it was a long weekend (because we have friends! And unique opportunities! And more Goodwills than I can shake a stick at!) And yes my house is a mess (because I have a house! And stuff filling up!) And yes I currently have one too many sofas in the living room (because I have the means to have a couch and then buy a new used one!) And yes I was tired ( Because I have jobs I love! And because I enjoy them, I work harder at them!) but I just couldn’t lament it all.
I have a beautiful, rich, full-to-overflowing life that I love.
Yes, sometimes when it rains busyness, it rains it in gale force buckets.
And sometimes it is work, really, really hard work.
Kids, work, friends, writing, cleaning, loving, growing, breathing…Some moments are just stuffed fuller than others and I feel as if I am about to burst from it all. And sometimes I do burst. I give out. Sometimes it is hard to find the happy. Sometimes I run and hide. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I eat ice cream and watch hours of British crime dramas. I can’t lie.
But then there comes a fresh new day to start again. A fresh box of sharpies ready to use. A hot, and drippy meal to be shared. A memory to tuck away. Another chance to create, to laugh, to read, to Be. That is what I thought looking over my week in picture form. All the lovely mixed in with the hard. All the fun deeply layered between the slivers of tiring. All of it together being the whole story and not just one part.
So, I cannot complain.