Little Lessons Learned in 30 Days

I’m a perpetual student – yet not always in the study and books kind of way. I like to read and learn, but most often my really important lessons come simply from living and loving and trying. I’m totally aware that I’m just a speck in the grand scheme of things, trying to figure out the big stuff – like how not to wreck my kids, how to build up instead of tear down, what makes people feel good and 1,001 ways to build interesting and healthy school lunches.

Occasionally, when I’m feeling all worldly and wise and too big for my britches, the Universe conks me on the head and reminds me I don’t know squat. Humble pie. Yum. I can get caught up in deep thinking – the why’s and how’s and the where-do-I-go-from-heres – so much so I exhaust myself. I am a relentless seeker. Learning and growing intrigues and feeds me.

But I need to remember to cut the big stuff loose and lighten up. My natural nature to sort, assess, disect and absorb can be pretty heavy. There is value in the little things we learn along life’s way, too.

Here are a few of the little lessons I’ve learned over the last 30 days.

Rethink your wardrobe. Although a pink, lacy onezie body suit with a built in bra looks and feels sexy under business attire - it is completely unacceptable for a 39 year old mother of four with an urgent bladder. There isn’t a whole lot more disturbing than having having to warp speed strip and sit half naked in a public bathroom.

Vanity has its price. Black Patent Steel Toed Stilleto 3D Uber Length Mascara is for women who don’t have sensitive eyes. The new mascara I bought – guaranteed to give me that doe-eyed look – makes me insane. It’s thick, clumpy, globby, heavy and flakey. Yesterday, I pulled on a clump on my left eye that was tickly and bothering me. I must have lost 14 lashes in the centre of my eye, right in the middle of my upper lid. A bald spot. Well, that’s attractive.

Criticism is an opinion. It belongs to someone else and I can choose not to own it. I received an evaluation from a presentation I did a few weeks ago. 90% of the remarks were positive and 10% were less than flattering. Negative. Me? Hard to sit through. What? Says who? It was a great reminder for me.

Someone I have never met will judge me today. Not everyone is going to like me or my point of view. That’s okay. That’s thier opinion. I don’t need everyone to like me in order to be happy. I can still be happy with who I am and what I do without the approval of the whole world.   

I still get pimples at 40.  And not in the typical places. I thought I was so over pimples. Who knew that you could get one in a mole on your upper lip? Or in the inside rim of a nostril. Both in the last 30 days.

Camille is a unisex name.  Who knew? Some of my lessons are very small and seemingly insignificant. This lesson said ’Don’t assume you’re looking for a woman when you see the name Camille.’ It’s French (of course) and it’s like Marcel/Marcelle or Michel/Michelle. In an increasingly diverse and multi-cultural world, traditional is obsolete. Keep an open mind and when in doubt, ask. 

Looking after myself is a full time job. I am acutely aware that I am the best I can be … today.  My theory is, if I aim for my mental, pyschological, spiritual and physical best each and every day, I should only continue to get better with age, right? 

With renewed committment - starting December 28, 2009 – I reset my goal of being the best I can be – for me – by the time I turn 40 in June. I don’t ‘diet’ but I make very conscious choices. I eat smart sometimes and don’t deny myself what I crave (I just try not to binge.) In January I did a whole body cleanse, and then in February I did a liver and gallbladder cleanse. I try to be active - walking/running/exercising 3 – 6 times a week. I try to drink 2 litres of water a day (hense the urgent bladder – it’s even waking me up at night). And according to a tape measure  – not a scale,(because I don’t own one) - I have lost 8.5″ in two months. 

That said, it is easy to fall off the wagon. 

Sometimes I just don’t feel like looking after myself. I want to gorge on ice cream and french fries and double the servings - just. because. I. WANT. TO. So there! In my head I say things like, ‘It’s too hard to walk.’ and ‘You can’t make me do it.’ 

And so I take a day or two to pout and lounge and pollute myself with garbage food until the mood passes. Then I decide to re-commit and treat my body like a temple. I feel better. And look better.  But it is a full time job. It is not second nature. It doesn’t come easy and some days I don’t want to – but I do.

I will never be perfect. This is a harder lesson to get because even though I ‘get it,’ I forget it and continue to try. Perfection is elusive. And relative. My perfect is your so-so and your perfect is my unattainable. And the media’s perfect is completely and totally concocted by computers.

“Perfection is not a quest for the best. It is a pursuit of the worst in ourselves, the part that tells us that nothing we do will ever be good enough – that we should try harder.” ~ Julia Cameron

I am a work in progress. I am flawed and rough around the edges. And I will remember that it is my marvellous imperfections that make me a one of a kind work of art for God. 

More importantly I will try to remember this when I think that I’ve observed imperfections in others. We are all a work in progress.