When I was growing up, and being dramatic about something (which happened pretty frequently, and you know you’re not surprised), my mom would tell always tell me the same thing: choose truth. When I insisted that no one loved me or understood me, I was told to choose truth. When I insisted that nothing was right in whatever situation I was in, I was told to choose truth. When I just knew that my brothers were getting preferential treatment that I deserved, I was told to choose truth.
When I look back on the past couple weeks, I am inclined towards complaining, towards embracing the view that my life has been difficult and stressful lately. There has been too much reading, too much writing, too much grading, too many things that haven’t gotten done that I just keep ignoring because there is no energy or time to focus on them, and then they pile up and make me want to pull the covers over my head in the morning. I feel like these weeks have been so full of stuff I don’t like, that everything I do love has been pushed out.
But today I am choosing truth.
And the truth is that over the past couple weeks, punctuating the business and stress there have been some beautiful moments, some restful moments, some peaceful moments. There have been late evening picnics and long long bike rides through the city. Doors left open so the crisp breeze can come in and fresh apples at the market. Clouds painted pink and nails painted red. Fountains and slippers and benches and burgers.
There have been moments of blessing, exactly where I am.