Tag: acceptance

acceptance

What's real not what's perfect.

 I used to hate this picture.   My mom loved it. I was in second grade when it was taken, but I remember it like it was yesterday. The hand-smocked blue dress scratched my neck and the sleeves dug into my armpits. I wanted to go outside and play soccer. The photographer was an overworked man whose job was to take pictures of elementary-school children in Utah. There are a lot of school children in Utah. When it came time for him to take my photo, I didn’t want to smile. The poor photographer was tired. He tried to coax me to grin. He said I looked beautiful. He tried to tell a joke. Finally, he pulled out a ratty, rust-colored stuffed animal with a missing eye. I smirked. Did he really think he could coerce me into smiling by showing me a tattered toy? He snapped the camera. I don’t think he cared what I looked like at that point. My last name started with “B.” He had a lot more photographs to take that morning. When the picture came home, I knew it was bad. I didn’t look pretty. I wasn’t smiling like a delightful little girl. I looked skeptical…cynical…not sweet or nice at all. My mom kept a framed version […]

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Acceptance

Every New Year’s I make a resolution to improve myself in some way or another. I will be more productive, more focused, more ambitious and so on. But this year, I concluded that if I haven’t changed by now, I’m probably not going to. And all I’m going to succeed in doing is make myself feel guilty, which I already do enough. So this year I decided to accept what I am. And what I am is a slob.    My desk is cluttered with papers, books, pictures of dogs, notes from people I love, notes from my agent with advice, tissues, water bottles, an icon my son brought me from Russia, dog treats, post-it notes, and books. I’d like to say there’s order to this madness, but having just spent half an hour looking for an important bit of information that I found under a chair, I doubt it.  What there is, though, is energy. My office feels alive to me. When I walk in, I feel like I’m jumping into a stream of running water.  Periodically I do clean it, and then I feel very virtuous, and then I sit down and write and darned if I know how it happens, but by […]

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