It's 7:30am. My alarm has been going off for an hour. It stops giving me the option to put it off at 7:30 and puts a big red X on the screen to remind my sleepy brain that I can't procrastinate any longer. I have to get up and Life. Except, I know how to get around that mean little X. So, I punch the X in its big fat red face and I set a stop watch for 10 minutes. I just can't do it yet. I've been awake for the last hour laying here in my oasis I created for myself.
I don't want to Life today. Life feels too oppressive today. I want to stay here wrapped in my 5 pillow 2 blankets head to toe cocoon and hide from all that big, mean, scary stuff out THERE. In another year, another version of my life, I could have. I would have. I'd have stayed wrapped up in this safe hiding place until I had the courage to go out THERE.
But it is not another year. I have to come out. I have to life. Probation is waiting for that fax from me to send a client to jail and probably save their life in the process. CPS is waiting for that progress report to take to court and give to the judge to help decide the fate of a family. Five people are on my schedule today to rely on ME to help them with Life-ing. How can I do that today? How can I help someone else Life if I can't even listen to that big red X and unwrap myself from this warm womb of safety? I don't know. I guess I just will. I have to.
I'll tell them about that time I didn't want to come out from under the covers because I was afraid and exhausted and Life-ing seemed like just too much. I'll tell them I got up. I made coffee. I'll tell them that it seemed impossible to me to even consider using a hairbrush or a curling iron or putting my legs into my pants. I'll tell them that I took some deep breaths and I pulled out all of my courage and energy and stood up.
I'll tell them that sometimes Life-ing occurs one minute at a time, one small decision at a time. One courageous moment at a time. I'll tell them that Life can be a big, mean, scary place where people and feelings and words and memories and guilt and shame and regret are flying like bullets at you and seem to be trying to keep you from surviving. But you can't hide forever because then you'll miss the sound of the birds chirping and the smell of morning on the grass and the way your dog follows you around the house and your kitten jumps on your lap.
You'll miss the chance to tell someone else about that time you didn't want to come out and Life but did it anyway. And how it all turned out okay.
So, here goes. I'm coming out now and shedding my safe, warm cocoon. I'm making coffee and turning on my curling iron and putting my legs into my my pants. 10 minutes late. And it will all turn out okay. At least for the next courageous minute.