Already missed a day LOL
A year ago I would’ve been upset with myself. I would’ve beat myself up over the fact that I made this public proclamation about getting back into a rhythm of writing and then I can’t even do it for more than 3 days in a row?? Harkins, c’mon.
Today though? When I realized I didn’t post one yesterday? I just laughed.
And I think that’s the slack I’ve been wanting to cut myself.
There’s this weird pressure these days to overcome slumps and struggles with focused work and goals and blah blah blah. There’s this surge of people making up for 2020 and making this year better. Meanwhile I’m over here starting a 30 day writing journey on the 2nd day of the 2nd month of the year and missing day 3…
Because who cares. I didn’t miss it for a good reason. I WFH Thursday for an online conference and then went out for dinner in the evening and came home late… I had other things on my mind that felt fun to think about and then I flossed my teeth and washed my face and went to bed.
So here I am.
Still trying to stick to it.
Today felt like Saturday in a lot of ways because I was still WFH for this online conference (which has been pretty good) and then I got to tote around with friends to dinner and Target and check out a potential new apartment. It was a little present every time I realized it was only Friday.
I missed my students today. Sometimes they drive me crazy with wild apathy or delayed responsibility for their grades. But most of the time, they make me laugh. 17 year olds are funny when you let them be 17. They’re funny when your expectations are set for a teenager living through a pandemic in which no one knows how to help them cope because none of us actually know how to cope… let’s be real.
I don’t think I told you, but I started a prayer wall in my room. I have jotted down the prayers that I’ve recently said and new ones as they come in. While I’m standing there flossing or applying lotion bc my skin is way too dry these days or getting dressed, I glance at this giant post it hanging on my wall with the names of people who are hurting or asking or praising God for something and it reminds me life is about way more than my life. It’s helped me think about others before I pray for myself.
Glancing at it now, I’m reminded of how many people I have in my life who I love enough to write on this wall. And I know I have many more. So when my evenings feel quiet, which they do more times than not, this giant paper with names and prayers scribbled down immediately expand my perspective on how far my story reaches and covers.
Makes me think about how I get so narrow-minded about my story. I think of it as the places and things I do myself. I think of my own movements not realizing that my story includes hearts from across the country and generations.
That’s really cool. My guess is yours does, too.
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