“Worry is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere”. ― Erma Bombeck. I have often been asked
“The time to relax is when you don’t have time for it.”…Sydney J. Harris The past couple of days has been easy and rejuvenating. I
I parent a set of eight-year-old twins and let me tell you, the feeling is an agonizing cocktail of worry, happiness, excitement, confusion, and guilt.
Once upon a time, not long ago, I led a fairly lavish life, and by lavish, I mean not worrying about running out of resources
Overtime, I have reaped many benefits of being imperfect, clumsy, forgetful, messy, unorganized, curvy, loud and carefree. And I don’t think I’d ever want to be perfect! After all these years I now know there is a strange kind of addictive beauty in things that are imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. You’ve got to allow yourself to be imperfect to feel it. Don’t be a hostage of perfection. Set yourself free from the stifling discomfort of being perfect. Being flawed is a beautiful thing.