I’ll admit there are times when I get tired of looking for beauty in all the first-world ugly I see. I just want to wallow for a minute or two . . . or a week.
Just so we’re clear, to wallow is a verb meaning to roll about in the mud for refreshment.
Yep. Rolling in the mud for refreshment. Get out me out some tunes and get a little pig wallow on.
I don’t know about you but I’m not sure rolling in the ugly is refreshing. I know it isn’t pretty for anyone to watch and it makes me downright sticky and stinky. And yet I do it.
I find myself failing again and getting stuck there, burying myself in the ugly. Counting the ways life is hard:
My book isn’t going the way I want it to.
My kids are home sick, again.
Sleep? Could you define that for me? I think I forgot what that is and my alarm has turned into a sadistic medieval torture device, I’m sure of it.
And for heaven’s sakes, how’s a girl supposed to write about war and betrayal when there’s 5 million kids in her house laughing over goofy videos and Kahoot quizzes. Seriously. How dare they have fun?!
Yep. I have a serious wallow on. I entirely forgot that I’m at my best when I’m looking for goodness. It’s a trick of the darkness to slowly dim the light. It isn’t until it’s really dark that I realize what it is I’m missing.
And wonder of wonders, so there is good in the wallow. As long as I don’t stay too long.
That is really all we can do . . .
Learn something from our failures, our frustrations, then do something different.Tweet This
I have a handful of little tricks to help me be faithful in paying attention to the good things in life: a thankfulness journal, a poster on my back door where my whole family records sightings of goodness, this blog, etc.
But they all seem to fall short sometimes. Whether it’s just user error or not, I need something more. I need community, reminders, accountability.
So, my dear reader, I wonder, will you prod me from the wallow when I get stuck? Tell me what your own little ways to keep yourself from taking a dip in the mud.