Monday, November 18, 2013

Struggle, Struggle, Struggle

Periodically I read back through my journals.  I've been journaling pretty much every day since 1996 so I have piles of them.  (I've requested that my oldest daughter gather them up and trash them as the first thing she does after my death since there's not a thing in them worth reading by anyone else.  No secrets, no dramatic revelations.)

What's in all those piles of paper is a long history of struggling to use my time and energy in the way I most want to.  I'm pretty much always writing about the war I'm having with myself to lose weight, eat right, exercise, keep tight track of my finances, get done for my kids with disabilities what I think needs to be done, and last but hardly least, finish the writing projects I start.

In little teeny, tiny inches forward, I can see by reading back that I make progress and that it is worth the struggle. 

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