Life is short, so yesterday I put work aside, kicked back, and watched The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. It’s a Coen brothers movie of western-themed vignettes, and every single one features a death.
It’s great.
No, really, it is. I loved it.
But during one of the many displays of death, it hit me. What am I doing?
What am I doing stressing about laundry and dishes and clean floors and matching outfits and preservative free, sprouted, organic food?
Not that those things aren’t important. They are. But they’re not worth stressing about.
They’re not worth getting tired and angry about. They’re not worth being distracted from the amazingness that is my daughter. And they’re not worth frustration and disappointment.
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Life is short. Really short. And each time we step outside the door, heck, each time we breathe, it could get shorter.
If you’ve been following my writing for a while, you know this is a theme I’ve talked about before, and I’m sure it’s one I’ll come back to.
Sometimes we need constant reminders.
In a previous post I talked about letting my mood – good and bad – be determined by a 13 month old. I determined to change that.
I think this is the trick >> Look at the big picture. Remember life is short.
And stop to take joy in giggle wars.
Time to go! My girl’s initiating one right now. Best kind of war. Both sides always win. 