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Guilt-free “Me.”

#HAWMC Day 23: Health Activist Choice

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So, I put the query out into the webiverse as to what my peeps wanted to see me write about for today’s post…and I think there was a general theme of them all which I’m going to cleverly adapt into a post about being “Me.” without the guilt but with a side of awesomeness.

*jazz hands*

You’ve heard me mention #selfcare more than once and less than eleventy-billion times.

But. WHY.

Why do I love the thingas I love…why do they hold such a special place in my Soul-Comfort and in the very fiber of my “Happy.”

My absolute pre-occupation right now from the “Everything.” is the Cosmos. I’ve always followed the constellations on their journey through the inky sky throughout the year. I’ve always held my natal necklace close to my heart because I am able to calculate the position of the planets at the exact moment of my birth. Mathematics and Ephemeris for the win! \m/

Space and time fascinate the limits of my mere layman brain cells. The possibilities of things we have yet to discover, theorems and equations yet to be written, let alone solved, and the very concept that the stuff that is “Me.” would have come from the violent death of a star.

While many people I know think that these concepts make them feel insignificant…I think that my very existence is so ridiculously special, it really contributes to my wanting to make an impact somehow, somewhere, in my life.

Because, to “Me., the Cosmos means that I matter. I was born of it and I will return to it when I die.

And, let’s be honest…those interstellar images are so very brimming with “Colour!” that one can’t honestly be down and out when perusing the photography of the universe.

What about that…”Colour!” Why? Why colour?


I was down in the dumps one day. The pain was really, really bad and my emotions were reflecting my anguish in seemingly scripted tandem. So, I took to the interwebz to escape all things drama social media and did a Google search for “colourful images”.

Well, actually, I Googled, “beautiful images” and was lactating with rage that 90% of the images were of women (tribute to Llamangela for that winning phrase!). THEN I Googled for “colourful images.”

So. Much. Colour. <3

Maybe…I dunno…maybe the artsy-fartsy part of me has a natural eye for colour? Who knows. What I do know is that the colours of the visible spectrum provide the very fiber of my soul with some “Happy.” I love all the colours. All of them. Colour = Happy. It’s simply the way it is. 🙂

What about those…Llamas? Why? Why llamas?

Truth be told, as a military brat, I was afforded the ability to make friends easily. What I lacked, however, was the capacity to choose good friends. I chose friends who told my son’s father that the baby wasn’t his, that I’d had an affair, and I’d later found out that she’d been spewing how she’d wanted him for herself. I chose friends who made me hate my parents and slice my arms a hundred times because clearly I was worthless and depressed.

My Ladies of Mutual Awesomeness are a group of women who, at the very core of my soul, I trust. And, by trusting (finally) I have been able to afford myself the ability to trust others. And so on. Like it’s own social circle, Wella-Balsam commercial. (1,000XP for those who remember that commercial!)

Llamas of the natural, species variety bring my anxiety down. A lot. As in, there is no word for how much and “a lot” just seems appropriate to use. I remember my 40th birthday, coming down the stairs to get ready for the day, and there on my dining room table, was Lloyd the Anxiety Llama. He tucks neatly under my chin and his elongated neck fits comfortably between my boobs.

Spec. Tac. U. Lar. \m/

What about the…fostering felines? Why? Why foster?

Given that I have 2.2 minutes to do just about anything that needs to be done…why on earth would I add this to my plate??

Because I love cats? Well, d’uh, really.

But…it’s because it’s something that I can do to help out my community. The community where the cats roam, frightened an neglected. The community of volunteers who take time from the chaos of their own realities to help trap, vet, transport and run events.

Helping makes me “Happy.” A lot. Helping goes back to my ancestors who, if you didn’t have help, you didn’t live. Helping gives me more esteem while being chronically afflicted.

Ho. Lee. Shit.

I could write for HOURS on this stuff! Wow! Colour me impressed!

(see what I did, there?)

What about the others…the scrapbooking and board games and geekiness, OH, MY!!

Self careAll of these things are a part of my Guilt-free “Me.” Part of my own self-care, my little bit of escapism. These are some of the things that I do that I am entitled to do as a mother, wife and human being.

I am affording myself the opportunity to have a quality of life.


Because, by the Cosmos…I’m worth it! \m/

1 Comment

  1. Daniel

    My heart is full, my soul seems to be doing a jig and I am overcome with gratitude for you…being the YOU for you. Thank you for sharing this.
    I said it before and meant what I said. I have started every morning by rubbing my eyes, reaching for the phone, and reading your latest post. What a wonderful month it has been. Not because it has all been full of sitting with a roll of bubble wrap while watching prancing llamas in a field of rainbow clovers but because every day is a little bit more vision into the you that you are and to me, that’s such a wonderful thing.

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