This is where the “confrontation” aspect comes in. Though I know I must accept this or (emotionally) die, the process is certainly not easy for me. Following patterns was safe, but it felt empty. Creating my own is fulfilling but feels like facing off with the school bully on the playground every. single. day.
I tell myself that I must remember to play. It should be fun,
after all, or why do it? But I do have a
tendency to drain the life out of things.
Remember? Wet blanket girl?
I say: “Take a moment in the morning while walking the dog. Instead of grumping about her sniffing, and sniffing, and sniffing some more, lean your head back and marvel at the blue sky and wispy white clouds and how fortunate you are to be witnessing them. Feel deeply how much you love her. Be grateful that her indecision about the right place to deposit her poo has given you this opportunity.”
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