Like many people, I'm rarely shy about snapping photos of my life and sharing them via social media, text or email. Family members tell me how much they enjoy "watching" the kids grow up despite the distance. Friends say pictures are a great way to stay connected now that we're all miles apart and busy with children, careers or both.
While I appreciate what my family and friends say, my reasons for snapping and sharing pictures are really quite selfish.
I'm a pragmatic, obsessive/compulsive personality with Type A tendencies. As such, I'm easily overwhelmed by feelings of failure when situations don't play out perfectly ... Guess how often anything my family does goes off without a hitch? You're right--never is a long time, so occasionally seems a realistic answer.
There are days when my own insecurities and shortcomings collide with lifetime activities to create the perfect storm of dysfunction. Being part of these days is like watching a car wreck in slow motion ... you know it's scary, and you want to stop it all. But, before you can blink, someone hits the play button. In one fell swoop, there's disappointment, frustration, anger, tears, more frustration, a bit of yelling, more anger and a lot more tears.
Worst of all for me, I'm the reckless driver colliding with a bus full of innocent victims--my husband and my children.
It's on these most dreadful days when our pictures go up in value.
Before I run from it all. Before I utter one more word. Before I fall apart in a heap of remorseful sobs. (Okay--sometimes "AFTER") I look through our pictures.
During those peaceful moments of bliss, I see the beauty in my world. Rather than drowning in the imperfection of it all, I marvel in the miracle of my children and in the dedication of my husband. I am able to sort through the day's rubbish and uncover the gem of a child's smile or my husband's gentle manner.
For a moment, my life is perfect because I take the time to cherish the perfect moments in my life. I can feel stress, anger, depression and hopelessness melt into peace, contentment and appreciation.
Looking at pictures, for me anyway, is a lot like catching up with an acquaintance or friend. I don't belabor the imperfect. In fact, I rarely even think about it. Outwardly, I'm not shy about expressing my multitude of blessings.
Honestly, I don't think I focus on the good in order to keep from "looking bad" to others. Rather, when given the opportunity to take a breath and step back, I have absolutely no doubt that I am a blessed woman with a strong faith.
I want to take more time to appreciate the beautiful moments in my life. I want to find an inner peace that dissolves my impatience and dissatisfaction. Of course, until I make the time to change what hurts, I'll continue getting lost in the weeds of an imperfect daily grind.
Here's to learning how to run a weed whacker and taking time for more pictures!
While I appreciate what my family and friends say, my reasons for snapping and sharing pictures are really quite selfish.
I'm a pragmatic, obsessive/compulsive personality with Type A tendencies. As such, I'm easily overwhelmed by feelings of failure when situations don't play out perfectly ... Guess how often anything my family does goes off without a hitch? You're right--never is a long time, so occasionally seems a realistic answer.
There are days when my own insecurities and shortcomings collide with lifetime activities to create the perfect storm of dysfunction. Being part of these days is like watching a car wreck in slow motion ... you know it's scary, and you want to stop it all. But, before you can blink, someone hits the play button. In one fell swoop, there's disappointment, frustration, anger, tears, more frustration, a bit of yelling, more anger and a lot more tears.
Worst of all for me, I'm the reckless driver colliding with a bus full of innocent victims--my husband and my children.
It's on these most dreadful days when our pictures go up in value.
Before I run from it all. Before I utter one more word. Before I fall apart in a heap of remorseful sobs. (Okay--sometimes "AFTER") I look through our pictures.
During those peaceful moments of bliss, I see the beauty in my world. Rather than drowning in the imperfection of it all, I marvel in the miracle of my children and in the dedication of my husband. I am able to sort through the day's rubbish and uncover the gem of a child's smile or my husband's gentle manner.
For a moment, my life is perfect because I take the time to cherish the perfect moments in my life. I can feel stress, anger, depression and hopelessness melt into peace, contentment and appreciation.
Looking at pictures, for me anyway, is a lot like catching up with an acquaintance or friend. I don't belabor the imperfect. In fact, I rarely even think about it. Outwardly, I'm not shy about expressing my multitude of blessings.
Honestly, I don't think I focus on the good in order to keep from "looking bad" to others. Rather, when given the opportunity to take a breath and step back, I have absolutely no doubt that I am a blessed woman with a strong faith.
I want to take more time to appreciate the beautiful moments in my life. I want to find an inner peace that dissolves my impatience and dissatisfaction. Of course, until I make the time to change what hurts, I'll continue getting lost in the weeds of an imperfect daily grind.
Here's to learning how to run a weed whacker and taking time for more pictures!
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