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Posts tagged ‘accomplishments’

A Good Hair Day

I didn’t brush my hair today. My perfectly logical explanation is that I couldn’t find a brush. Because I am the kind of person that frequently misplaces their hairbrush, which doesn’t even seem like it should be possible, but I always take mine in the car or in my purse. Our house is sparse and uncluttered because of the showings and I still managed to lose it. Though considering how good my hair looks today it might have to stay gone. This is the second day my brush has been missing and I swear my hair looked great both days. And that’s probably only 20% or 30% wishful thinking. I only did the fingers through the hair quick comb and yet it seems to be much less frizzy and unkempt than usual.

In addition to the hair, I feel like I’ve had a pretty good day. I was productive and I had a free meal at Subway with my mom. My veggie sandwich happened to be on the low fat list of subs (I’m ignoring the amount of cheese and mayo I added), I’ve been able to get some writing done, I worked out, and I studied Spanish for a little while. The only thing I can hope for is that this continues until tomorrow. It seems like every good day I have is followed by a day that I wear sweatpants and don’t leave the couch.

I suppose all of this is my way of saying I am glad to have some Mary Oliver in my life.

Reckless Poem- Mary Oliver

Today again I am hardly myself.
It happens over and over.
It is heaven-sent.

It flows through me
like the blue wave.
Green leaves – you may believe this or not –
have once or twice
emerged from the tips of my fingers

somewhere
deep in the woods,
in the reckless seizure of spring.

Though, of course, I also know that other song,
the sweet passion of one-ness.

Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the
tumbled pine needles she toiled.
And I thought: she will never live another life but this one.
And I thought: if she lives her life with all her strength
is she not wonderful and wise?
And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything
until I came to myself.

And still, even in these northern woods, on these hills of sand,
I have flown from the other window of myself
to become white heron, blue whale,
red fox, hedgehog.
Oh, sometimes already my body has felt like the body of a flower!
Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched
among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.

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Small Progress and Small Bugs

The little things matter. I didn’t get started until ten today. When that happens I tend to berate myself and feel like I wasted the day. Today, I made the best of it. I started writing anyway, even got a bit of freelancing done. I did a load of laundry. Sure right now I’m distracted by the Big Bang Theory, but I’m only watching a half hour of it before I do some more writing. And I’m getting this blog post done.

A lot of the time I feel like I’m taking too long to get things finished or I don’t accomplish as much I wanted to. I have to accept that it might take me more time to do things then it takes others. That I do those things is what is important.

The small things matter, and here’s an example I found while going through the sporadic journal I’ve been trying to keep for a while. In the summer I wrote that I saved a grasshopper from the obliteration it would have found under my uncles shoes. While everyone else screamed about the bug, I grabbed my empty water glass and a broom and took it safely outside.

English: A grasshopper at the fort
I save bugs whenever I see them in the house. I’m not a pro at it. It’s a safe bet that while everyone else was screaming about the bug, I was too. At least they have a small house. When I see a spider in my bathroom I have to run down a flight of stairs. I have a spider in a cup and a flimsy piece of paper over it, and I shriek all the way. Bugs scare me, I hate them being in the house but I would never squash one. I plead with them to just get in the cup while I make nervous noises anytime they move closer.  It’s a little thing but I refuse to kill them. Even though it could be agrued that I scare them to death when I fling them out into my yard, I won’t squish them. My family and friends laugh at me and say the bugs don’t matter. But they do to me. If I can put the effort into saving bugs I don’t like, even when I’m scared, surely I can do the same with my own life. I can do the things that frighten me, I can put effort into the small things. Even if it doesn’t seem like I’m doing much, if it matters to me then that’s whats important.

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