I like words. A lot. I like the way some roll of the tongue and bounce around in your ears awhile before lying down and resting somewhere comfortable in your brain.
I like their meanings. I like contemplating ideas – big ideas and small ideas. I like concepts and philosophies and ideas that remind me of our purpose and all that we share together. I remember my AP English teacher in high school talking about the collective subconscious. I loved this idea. It still brings me comfort.
I like my house. I don’t have a big or fancy house, and a decorator sure would have a lot of advice to give to me, but it’s home. It feels secure. There are soft lights and there is lace and there are a lot of pillows and blankets. Magoo recently threw her arms out and said, we have such a comfortable home. I love that my children feel nurtured and inspired within these walls.
I like music. The music I like probably isn’t the music you like. I say this because about the only people in this world who really share musical taste with me are my children, and that’s just because they have only been exposed to my favorites. (This is a cool little thing moms of littles can do.)
The music I like inspires me. It reminds me of all that is good in the world. It reminds me of where our passions lie and the fire that fuels those passions. I used to write down song lyrics and hang them up all over the place. Now I just mull them over in my head and occasionally use them as a signature in my email.
I don’t need to hang up song lyrics as much because all my walls are filled with plaques and paintings of quotes and words. Who needs to see a beautiful sunset when you can stare at beautiful words?
I have four children, three in my home and one in my belly. My three already born children all represent to me the perfect embodiment of some trait. Magoo’s compassion and holiness inspire me; they are untarnished, unsullied, and beautiful. Goose’s passion is a wonder to behold. Whether she is building with Legos or running to the car, what she does, she does with purpose. She has a big personality, and it’s getting more and more focused the older she gets. And my little Mae… she has so much empathy in such a little body. She is sweet and cuddly, and centers her life around a pursuit of the snuggly.
And TJ… no one in this entire universe can get on my nerves like he can. And that is the greatest compliment I could give anyone because despite his sometimes frustrating idiocyncracies, there is no one else on the planet I would rather go through life with. He is home and he is comfort and he is peace and together we create home. And beautiful children.
And there are a hundred other things I could tell you about myself. And I say that with a slight tinge of self-congratulations because there was a time not all too many years ago that I wouldn’t have been able to make a list like this, when I wouldn’t have been able to tell you about myself because what I knew was hidden. I hid it from anxiety, always filling my mind with the world so as to never have to fill it with myself.
But self-congratulatory as I might be right now, that’s not the reason I am sharing all of this. The reason I am writing it is because today, like many days, I am reminded that the only way to find peace is to really look within.
After all, how much of our time is spent looking out?
Looking to see another’s judgment.
Looking to compare ourselves to another’s standards?
Looking at all the blessings of others while failing to count our own.
Envy is something that comes fairly easily to me, as I’m sure it does to most people. It’s insidious. It steals so much from us. It blinds us to all we have and leaves us feeling less than when compared to others.
I struggled for many years with this with no idea of how to break free. And then I read the words, “Envy is the art of counting other people’s blessings rather than your own,” and it all started to make sense to me.
The trick to beating envy is to look within and count all that we have. It lies in the ability to see all that is beautiful and whole and complete in our lives and in ourselves.
The secret to beating envy is gratitude.
And so on this Monday morning when I have a basket full of laundry to put away and no idea what we are going to eat for dinner, I am happy to be able to take a moment and remember who I am and what I have, and now I will just take a moment to be grateful.
After all, what greater prayer is there than simple gratitude?