The Measure of My Success

May 17 2012

I started vacation with a partially empty emotional bucket, rather eager to refill it. And now that I’m on vacation, I’m splashing relaxation frantically towards the bucket, hoping some of it will land inside and I’ll be magically refilled. I like to be realistic; it’s one of my best things.

But vacation is like sleep. Incredibly awesome. In shorter supply than I would like. And very challenging to do successfully with a limited amount of time.

Sleep, I tell myself every night. Just go to SLEEP. Beth. Seriously. Sleep now. Now now. Now now now now.

And because putting pressure on myself to succeed always results in unparalleled success, I thought I’d do it on vacation, too.

Enjoy yourself, I tell myself. Just enjoy every single moment of rest and relaxation. Rest! RELAX. Beth. Seriously. Rest now. Now now. Now now now now.

Not to be dramatic or anything, but being a mother is like being deranged; logic has a hard time finding its footing here.

So today, I’m going to work on challenging my broken record and the measure of my success.

I’m going to work on redefining rest success. And relaxation success. And sleep success. And, well, being a mama success. Because I’m starting to suspect this…

In order to be a success – as a mama, as a woman, as a flawed human being – I must discard the idea of a wasted day. And a wasted experience. And a wasted opportunity.

To watch moments flutter by is not a waste; it is life.

Instead, I will embrace the idea that successes are little, that they come in ones… and that just one little success is enough.

If, today, I
discovered something new
thought of someone else
was kinder than I wanted to be…

If, today, I
went for a walk
enjoyed my coffee
managed to breathe…

If, today, I
managed just one thing…

not all of them
or most of them
or many of them
or some,

that is the measure of my success,
and it is enough.