all good


I am still figuring out the best way to be good to myself—but sometimes I get it right without trying. Sometimes I close all my tabs and lie in bed with a meaningful book at 10 PM, and I only think nice thoughts before falling asleep. 
Sometimes I resist that bag of chips or that hefty serving of deep-fried-whatever and voluntarily order a salad (this one had seaweed and salmon and sesame seeds in it, and fresh greens, and juicy red watermelon chunks). Sometimes I turn off the Adele and the Rachael and switch on the Robyn or the Florence or even the Carly Rae. Sometimes I make the right choices. Sometimes I choose: peace, quiet, health, happiness. Sometimes I just laugh it all off, and if I could run barefoot across a park in the midsummer rain, ice cream trickling down my fingers and arms and legs, I would. Sometimes I can control things. Sometimes I can say no when it counts, and sometimes I can say yes. YES. Sometimes I just say whatever needs to be said and I don't feel guilty about it, and I don't feel guilty for not feeling guilty. Sometimes I am really, incredibly good at being good to myself, and sometimes I am madly in love with possibilities and proximity and perspective. A friend pointed out that one of the watermelon chunks is shaped like a heart; tilt your head, that's all you have to do to see it right side up. That's a promise.

And because we're talking about goodness here, of course,
of course: Happy Mother's Day to all the wise, wonderful mothers of this world and beyond. Please be good to them today, and always.