Sometimes I write because I have something Profound to say.

Sometimes I write because I have to talk and there is no one to listen except for paper (or, er, WordPress).

Sometimes I write to communicate.

Sometimes I write to prove a point.

Sometimes, like now, I write so that I don’t forget how.


Life is buzzing by in a whirl right now. Days are long and nights are busy, and every one from the Daddy to the KK is passing each other like tourists on 17 bypass. Tonight I had a whole night off and was alone with just the girls, and we had no idea what to do with ourselves. So we ate pasta and played… not with the toys or the swing set, no at the pool or the beach, but in the garage.

{We’re sort of out of practice with the playing, I guess…}

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what makes us happy and what fulfills us and what people see when they look at us (the collective ‘us,’ not just, you know, us). I have been labeled a lot lately: rich, immature, popular, insincere, religious fanatic, not fancy enough, uncaring, in need of a haircut, scatterbrained. Some of those came from people who don’t know me, one of them came from me.

Other than the haircut (it’s seriously been like 14 months), I don’t think any of them are true.

But there is the realization within me that after 35 years of struggling with approval-addiction: I don’t have time to fight or to change what people who don’t know me perceive me to be. And the people who do know me… don’t need to label me.

(Well, except for Miranda. And she is the one who said I’m not fancy enough. No kidding).

I suppose when you look at someone’s online life – which, true though it may be, is crafted & edited for public consumption, or when you know them casually, or when you look at them from afar or on a surface level, you can draw all sorts of conclusions about her journey. You can assume her bills are always paid on time, that her house is never too dusty, that her meals are always Pinterest-perfect and appreciated by her adoring family, that her title (whether CEO of a company, CEO of a household, FREE-E-O of a start-up or charity) equates her to power and glamour. You can assume that she and her husband never fight, that her children never yell “I don’t love you” or throw shoes at her while she is driving or lie to her, that she has never neglects her friends or forgets to answer important emails or screens her calls because she is engrossed in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix.


I have preached a sermon to myself over the past few days. It focuses on what we are called to do, and what we are not called to do. It focuses on giving our best, even if the people around us, even if the ones we count on, give their worst, or give nothing. It focuses on being focused, on not losing sight big goals or important dreams, but also on not stomping on details on our way to see our visions fulfilled.

It focuses on doing what we need to do, and not thinking about what we don’t have.


So anyway. I just needed to write.