I CHOOSE HAPPY


I CHOOSE HAPPY AND LIGHT!

I hollered out loud scootering down Lincoln Avenue like a maniac.

I have no idea if any one heard me, but I am laughing out loud thinking about it.

I had previous to that moment been a little in my head.

I was feeling small and sad.

I texted a lot of people right as the day was ending.

I had an unexpected thing happen and it threw me for a loop and I found myself in a quandary trying to decide how to proceed.

Breathe.

There’s a start.

Um.

Do the next thing in front of you.

I have two small boys in a bath tub, attend to that, wash the hair, condition it–it was not suppose to be a bath night with hair washing but how the 3 year old got cheese dip in his hair, well, it’s a long story, suffice to say, hair washing happened.

Heh.

God I love these little boys.

Even when they drive me bats.

It took me a good fifteen minutes to get the little guy into the bath, he’s definitely going through a bit of a rebellious phase, and he did not want a bath.

AT ALL.

And of course once I managed to get him in the bath he did not want to get out.

So often that child could be me.

But, but, but, I’m all focused on this thing here and I want this thing here and it’s not good for me, but so what, let me get all engaged with what I think is right and you’re wrong and fuck me.

I’m an emotional three year old.

However.

I do have some tools and mama opened up the tool box and took them out.

I prayed.

I texted my people.

I got some fantastic suggestions.

I couldn’t really use the phone, mom and dad were down stairs and I was not inclined to have the conversation be overheard.

I never am.

I’m either on camera or the monitor and I would rather just keep it discrete.

I can text at work and that feels ok, as long as I am paying attention to what is going on with my little guys.

That being said.

I practiced some restraint and I am grateful for it.

So grateful.

I am also grateful to know that I have choices and though, yes, for a little while I did feel small, sad, and though my heart hurt, it didn’t hurt for long.

I had a bit of conversation in my head about how to respond.

No response is a response, Martines.

No.

No, is a complete answer.

And this nice little tidbit, I don’t owe anyone a reason or a response.

I can choose to not engage.

I can choose happy.

I can choose light.

I can choose joy.

I can choose to get up early on a Monday and go to yoga and work so hard that my arms are literally shaking, I mean, I am holding the pose, but I can see the muscles in my arm twitching and vibrating from the strain of holding the pose.

That was a first for me.

My arms had quite a bit more of a work out than I was expecting.

But it did lead to an enormous release of energy and I was able to turn my heart up to the ceiling in a certain pose and suddenly.

Light and happy.

I saw a crown.

I saw a bunch of daisies.

I felt a wash of joy.

I felt dipped in happy.

It was a pretty swell feeling leaving the studio this morning, climbing into a super hot shower after, putting on my favorite Big Mac vintage overalls and zooming out the door and off to work.

Just a little early so I could throw some gas in my scooter and also get to the post office before I went into work to send off my mom’s Mother’s Day package.

It felt good to do that.

Get my mom’s gift into the post.

I’ll be in school all weekend, though I am sure I will find a minute to reach out and call, I wanted to make sure that I had the package in the mail before the week got a head of me.

I showed up.

I got present for work.

The family wasn’t there.

The boys in school.

The parents out.

It was really sweet and nice to have the house to myself for the first hour of work.

I kicked through most of what I needed to do before the mom came back, cleared with me the day and what to do for dinner, talked about menu planning for the week, and also got my doctor’s appointment approved for next Friday.

I had a nice little Monday afternoon reunion with the boys when they got home from school and did a lot of reading with them before heading out the door to gather a few things from the market, the cleaners, and Lucca Ravioli.

I also found a bird’s nest.

It was so beautiful and small.

It was in the middle of the sidewalk, soft grasses and small twigs, tiny little white pin feathers all interwoven.

I took some photos, gave it to the oldest boy and enjoyed the small gift of beauty that I was given.

So many small gifts of beauty.

Perspective being one of them.

“Of course you feel sad,” he said via text.

“Have your feelings.”

Oh yeah.

That’s right.

I get to have feelings and they will be fleeting.

I can be sad.

I can feel small.

And.

Then I can let go of those feelings and reach for others.

Which is why I was hollering “I choose happy, I choose light!” at the top of my lungs on Lincoln Avenue as I was riding my scooter home.

I choose to not engage in a story or make a drama.

I choose to be happy.

I choose to be an artist and joyful and silly.

And.

“Are you really 43?” He asked me as we leaned up against The Addams Family pinball game at Free Gold Watch.

“You do not act 43.”

“I really am,” I said.

Forty fucking three.

And astounded with happy, joyous,

(lightness)

And.

Free.

All the fucking time.

 

 

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