it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: The Birthday Meausring Stick, Gag me.

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: The Birthday Meausring Stick, Gag me.: Today is my birthday.  I am 58 years old.  Or young, or "my life is half over", however you want to look a...

The Birthday Measuring Stick, Gag me.

Today is my birthday.  I am 58 years old.  Or young, or "my life is half over", however you want to look at the situation. 

Regardless it is my birthday.

 

 

Yesterday, on a quick trip to Southport to visit with my soul sister, Addie was sleeping and so I pulled out the Birthday Measuring Stick.  You know, the imaginary stick in your head that you pull out, usually when you are alone, on your birthday or around New Year's Eve and you start measuring yourself. 


I "measure" myself about four times a year, kind of like a mental quarterly review.  I  am just way more tough than any boss I have ever had.  And why is this? 
Why are we are so hard on ourselves? Why?


"Am I a good person, what will folks think about me when I die, why do I have bad thoughts?  If I have bad thoughts but don't do anything with them are they still bad?  I laugh when people fall, why?  I wish I was the ladylike, southern genteel lady in the room that never swears, why can't I be like those women?  Instead of laying on the couch on rainy days, why can't I get up and feed the homeless instead of eating ice cream out of the half gallon?


The list goes on and on and on.  I dig up every horrible thing I have ever done and have
"transportation confession" followed by wondering if the border line things are worthy of confession.


Then, I take on my appearance.  That's always fun.  And depressing and ridiculous.
Wrinkles, hair, vision, just insane.


Then, when I have reached the peak, I think about somebody who cannot walk, someone with cancer, somebody who has buried a child, someone in the process of a divorce and someone who is terminal and I feel like a total ass.


And then I tell myself to chill out.  And focus on being the best that I can be 90% of the time.  I know I will fail if I strive for 100 percent and being an over achiever is over rated.  I will strive for 90% and make it achievable. 


From there it goes to "what makes a good person?"


And of course all of the usual adjectives come to mind. 


It was just this afternoon that I an epiphany.


My other "soul sister" called to wish me a Happy Birthday.  Her birthday  is an few days.  She too had the "measuring stick" out and had already begun the beating.  She had the same discussion  with me that I had with myself yesterday. 


"Why are women so hard on one another and why are we so hard on ourselves?"  Neither of us knew why.


And then I reminded her of two things about her that I love that I never shared with her and I know she didn't know.


And never in this conversation did "supple skin, great legs, abs, firm arms, great hair or thin" come up. It was all about heart, grit, and wonderful gestures and how we become better human beings.


We hung up and I sat in the car, getting ready to go into an appointment and the sun was beating down on my damaged, wrinkled skin and I just laid my head back on the headrest and soaked it up.


I even kind of smiled.  The first part of repairing something is knowing it is broken.  The second part is working on it.  And if I was perfect, how boring would my life be?


I guess I am way ahead of the game if I know I need to work on something and strive to accomplish my goal. 


If you are still reading this, you either know about the Birthday Measuring stick or the "Soul Whack a mole" or you think I should try to repair my sanity because you don't own a Birthday Measuring Stick.


And if you don't, I have one you can use.  I am just going to be happy I can blow out my candles, wrinkles around my lips and all, cause I am loved, even if I just strive to be the best I can be, 90% of the time.