Confession Tuesday - Blue Skies Edition

Dear Reader,

It is sunny.

Honestly, when you live in the Northwest, that should be all I have to write because we know what comes next. . .nothing.

When it's sunny here, we leave our homes, our jobs, escape outside.

We do not take sunshine for granted.
That is one of the lovely things about Northwest folks, we appreciate good weather.

We spend so much time inside and under grey skies (SO MUCH TIME! ALL FALL AND WINTER), we get a little blue sky and we lose our minds.  In a good way.

So I write this to you after a day of being out in the world, under the sun, Vitamin D filled, I wander into the confessional while planning tomorrow's activities outside--

I confess now that summer is coming, I will be here much less.

The blog is a wonderful thing in the winter, but in the summer, it's an unmet chore.
Sometimes when I'm being my best self, I write posts in advance, "schedule" them as they say.  But on my worst (best) days, I just disappear into a tent, up a hill on a mountain bike, into the world of orcas on a paddleboard.

I spend two to three seasons eating Vitamin D, so when the sun comes, I run to it.  Like a hooked junkie waiting for her fix.

~

I confess sometimes in the sunshine I can't remember my writer self.

I am anyone but a writer.

Though sometimes I have a line in my head while I garden.  Repeated again and again.  But I tell myself I am not a writer.  But I am.  Ultimately.  Especially when fall arrives.

~

I confess as a 40-something person, I much easier on everyone else.

My twenty-something self judged everyone.  And if they were different than me, then they must be wrong.  My thirty-something self, so underwater, so over-my-head, I judged mothers because if I was right, they must be wrong.

My forty-something self says: get the tattoo.  Drink wildly.  Overeat and enjoy.

My forty-something self doesn't care if your kids stay up past midnight, even if they are four.  Doesn't care how you potty train or don't. If you're attachment or not.  If you read to your kids at night or not.  Do you love your kids?  Good enough.

Are you having a good life?  Good enough.

My forty-something self doesn't want perfection just good enough.  It's wonderful being happy with less.  It is, it is, it is.

~

I confess I want less for myself these days.

Less work.  Less things.  Less responsibility.  Less care and more time to write, to do whatever I want to do.

I am lowering my standards (a la William Stafford) except in everything.

My To Do list has shrunk.  If you are not bleeding or on fire, then it's not my responsibility.

I love simplicity these days.
I love sitting out on the deck with already cooked shrimp, arugula from the garden and a glass of red wine.  Good red wine I bought on sale.

And time.

We live our lives as if it's some sort of hectic competition.  It's not.  It's about loving each other, living, enjoying, and taking in moments.

It's good when we can slow down.  Sunshine reminds me of that.  I dream I live in Key West even though I am an Northwest girl.  And it's okay.  All of it.

Step outside and appreciate the blue skies.  It's all good.
Amen.

~ Kells

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