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Maybe this year isn't about me

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Maybe this year isn't about me.

Perhaps it is not about you either.

This isn't looking like it's going to be the year all of our dreams come true.

It's doubtful 2020 is gonna be the year any of us do that 'next big thing' on our list.

We're all lacking

time,

patience,

sanity,

our village,

a safe school to send our children off to,

adventure,

and

inspiration.

We're all feeling too heavy to do sh*t about sh*t.

Except, that is, for what we must do like

love our kids well,

show up for our family,

go to work,

extend kindness and grace to all,

make big, hard decisions,

and get up tomorrow and do it all again.

Some days I ask, "Why?"

"Why does it have to be like this?"

And other days I'm reminded that

no matter the 'why,'

and no matter what it 'be like,'

I'm fortunate to have

my health,

my kids and theirs,

my spouse and his,

a roof over our heads,

food on our table,

and a few dollars in the bank.

I might not have spent the better part (Ha! Was there one?) of this year living up to my full potential,

and perhaps you haven’t either,

but I think one could very well argue that the year 2020, well,

it's shaping up to be one that shows us the endless capacity of ours.

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