An old boyfriend once asked me if I had any rules. I said that I didn't think so and then I remembered that I have two: #1) To be happy and #2) To be a good person or at least try not to be an asshole.
Sometimes I get confused with what it means for me to be happy. Sometimes I think it means to be perfect. Some examples of the imperfections I've been struggling with lately are wanting a new pair of black mary jane style shoes for work, wanting a few light shrug/open sweaters to wear with sleeveless dress and then expand my professional wardrobe, that I need to get my tattoo removed from my underarm to no longer have to cover it up in professional circumstances.
As I trudged to the car, cranky from the heat, to perhaps fruitlessly drive to Champaign-Urbana from Oakley to buy shoes and clothes, I was hit with a realization:
I keep doing things in hopes of feeling less stress, of feeling okay and it's definitely not working. The list of things I need to buy or do to feel perfect and, thus ok, will never ever end. So if I want to be happy something needs to shift inside of me, some energy change or focus. My outside experience reflects my inner experience and I need to get my cells along a common goal of vibrant awesomeness, not just hoping my outer experience unrealistically perfects itself.
Alright, inner world, let's get juicy.
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