good days and bad days

The last several mornings I have been woken, before the alarm, by a bright-eyed five year old crawling into my bed.  I suspect most of you, those who aren’t parents of young children, may have reacted to that with “awwww” but let me tell you, that’s not the mood I’m trying to inspire.  Leave out the bright eyed five year old part and just imagine being awoken before the alarm by a gangly, loud breathing creature climbing into your bed and digging his knees into your ribs–there–that’s the feeling I’m going for.

This morning, my meditation was interrupted by being rear ended (I was sitting in my parked car, meditating… and it was just a bump, not to worry, but it felt a lot bigger from the silent place I had dropped into).

I wore scratchy wool tweed pants today that are only lined to the knee.

These could be the makings of a “bad day” right?  But they weren’t…  I didn’t have a bad day.  I just had a day and I’m pretty thrilled to be reflecting on that realization.  This wave of positivity could be fueled by having written the first chapter of my memoir (7000 words) in the last three days (woot!), or it could also be because I am awesome… or it could be a kind of chicken/egg scenario where one happened because I am awesome or I am awesome because one happened and both are contributing to my lightened mood.  It’s not that important… moving on.

I’ve written about this many, many times before, but it never seems to get old.  I keep learning that I get to choose how I will experience the world.

I get to choose how I feel.

hand holding flowerI used to think that only applied to those days that didn’t include inexplicable lows or other symptoms of chemical depression… but it applies to those too!  I used to think it only worked on the days when I could translate my experiences into delight, wonder, and authentic gratitude…  but it’s not just for those either!

It works for regular, old every days.

I chose how I felt when my compassion for the worried driver outshone the startle from my silence.

I chose how I felt when I recalled that getting woken up before the alarm beats rousing a crabby kid out of bed.

I chose how I felt when I made use of my scratchy pants to itch the bug bite on my arm all day long.

And to prevent leaving you in the lurch with this profundity… let me tell you how I “choose.”  It’s by going with, instead of against.  When you get bumped, and move forward you aren’t getting bumped anymore.  When you are being scratched and rub an itch into it you are getting a need met.  When you are greeted with an intention of love and give love back you are exchanging the ultimate commodity.  Choosing how I feel means choosing to go with… choosing not to resist.

I’m not soaring… I’m not full of joy or gratitude or light or airiness.  I’m a little tired.  I got irritated a couple times at work.  My mouth tastes like carrots after 5 days of clean eating (and I’m a little weary of that prolonged state of mouth stank…) but I’m fine.  I had a day.  A fine day.  Meh-who am I kidding… it was a good day!  and it didn’t have to be.  It got that way because I chose it.

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