I Sent You a Dog

It's  been a crazy, nail-gnawing summer. I've barely had time to sit down and write on my Works In Progress let alone on my blogs. But today seems to be a good time to take stock of the situation.

There have been a few peaks (my son coming home from Russia; getting my medallion with my youngest daughter; seeing my babies and my eldest and her husband; going to the Temple; a family reunion) and several plunges (dealing with someone who reminds me of Godzilla in the way she stomps around crushing people; wedding insanity; and running a funeral). Challenges have included helping several friends work through hills of trash of both the physical kind and mental, as well as dealing with my own detritus mountain.

I wish I could say that I handled each challenge with grace and wit. Nope. I mentally kicked and screamed and threw myself on the floor and then crawled into my mental cave to lick wounds almost every time. I wish I could say I'd evolved into this amazing, brilliant butterfly of a person. But I think I went backwards and became a worm again. I let myself be pushed out of my place; knocked off my perch; rolled out to the trash and left there behind the barrel.

In fact, I felt about two inches high at a time when I should have been deliriously happy. It was supposed to be one of those fabulous mom paydays. Instead, she told me, "Sorry. No paycheck for you. In fact, you're fired. Don't let the door hit you in the rear. Oh, and by the way, you're unimportant and crazy." (Not in so many words, but actions yell.)

What have I learned?
1. Ask for inspiration about these things and then listen to and believe those words.
2. There are things you're reading incorrectly, but mostly not.
3. Trust your intuition.
4. Just let it run off.
5. Breathe.
6. Pick your battles.
7. Contrary to popular belief, you have a place and a value much > zero.
8. I sent you a dog. Now use him for good (not food).
9. Don't lose sight of what's really important while bemoaning the garbage.
10. This too will pass. And someday you'll have regrets.

Okay. Now it's time to go make dinner (not dog).