This morning, I posted something I was thinking about on Instagram. I wasn’t really focusing on it too intently, just typed out a couple of sentences and hit “Share.” But when I reread the post, I felt I had been accidentally wise for a second.Continue reading
So, you know how I’ve been playing around with makeup lately? And I got this great new Kevyn Aucoin makeup book and palette for Christmas? Well, my father-in-law gave me the nicest compliment recently: “Wow,” he said. “You look absolutely radiant today.” I instantly felt beautiful. And loved. And it felt really, really good.
Sweet, right? But my next thought was, “It’s just the makeup.” Then, I remembered that a couple of weeks ago, my father-in-law told me he had made one of the nurses at his retirement community happy because he called her “radiant.” And further, he had told me that he annoyed one of his friends by taking the man’s wife’s hand, kissing it, and saying that SHE looked radiant.
I began to feel disappointed… but the glow inside was still there. Dammit, I thought, I AM radiant. And I allowed myself to feel radiantly happy… not because someone thought I looked pretty (or stylish or well put together or young or skinny). The truth is, being called radiant made me feel like I mattered to him, that I had a positive effect on him, and, just maybe, that I brightened his life a little bit.
It didn’t hurt that Paul took my hand and agreed that I looked radiant, and kissed me. I love him.
It would have been quite easy to dismiss the compliment, especially after remembering he likes to use that word “with the ladies” (his phrase). But you know what? I’ll take it. Women have a hard enough time feeling that we are okay just the way we are. Yep, sometimes I feel crappy about how I look. Sometimes I just feel crappy in general. We all do. But on the other hand, I often feel happy and loved and full of life and, yes, radiant, no matter what I look like.
My friends, you are all radiant. Celebrate yourself! Go out there and shine tomorrow.
Hey! I actually sat down to write tonight feeling a little out of sorts. And now… woo-hoo, I feel radiant! I can’t wait to shine tomorrow, with you all. Let me know how it goes.
**I never made it to Broadway, but I can always flash those jazz hands…
I have nothing witty to share today. I have been sick for more than two weeks. I am on my second round of antibiotics and still feel like my head is going to explode. The pressure on my ears is intense. The doctor says my eardrums are showing the pressure they are under (happens to us all, eventually). I can’t remember if she actually used the word “bulging,” but that’s how it feels: like my eardrums are bulging and may soon simply pop. And they hurt so much that I imagine, if they popped, it might not be a bad thing. I picture my head filled with sludgy swamp water, and if my eardrums pop, it would all drain out. Then maybe I could lean over the kitchen sink and use the sprayer to rinse out the inside of my head. The warm, soapy water would wash out all the sticky bits of shameful memories, useless knowledge, and cobwebs, leaving my whole brain sparkling and new and so, I don’t know… rejuvenated! It would be like coming home from a month-long vacation in the Bahamas, but without the expense. Or the tan.
I have been asked to include better pictures when I post items about style, but have been challenged by the fact that I have no initiative when it comes to technology. But now I am happy to announce that my photos should be improving. Here’s why:
I refused housework and laundry again today in order to go “day-camping” with the kids and a couple of their friends yesterday. Packed up snacks and firewood and hot cocoa packets and chairs and sleeping bags to wrap around us and hats and mittens and my camping hammock. Enjoyed a gorgeous, sunny, cold autumn day on the lake with a campfire and four delightful teenagers. Really, I am not lying: the teenagers wanted to spend time with me! In the outdoors. With no phone service! And it was their idea!
I also managed to spend some time alone in my hammock, on a hill above the lake, wrapped in a sleeping bag with my face in the sun.
I started out reading, but soon I drifted into some daydreams and put the book down to follow my train of thoughts. Such as:
There are two kinds of people in this world: those who enter a public bathroom worrying that they’ll find a dead body in there, and those who put the dead bodies in there.
I’m middleaged, and I’m determined to celebrate it. Do you love whatever age you are? I’m thinking about this because of a conversation I overheard between a teenage kid and his middledaged mother recently. These are his exact words:
Discovered this morning that I left the stove burner on all night. Said a prayer of thanks for still having a house. And a family!
Middleaged friends, are you this bad? Is your brain your enemy sometimes?
About 10 years ago, I told a therapist I was worried I was going to get into a car accident because my mind seemed so foggy when I was driving. I couldn’t focus on cars or traffic signals because I was constantly distracted. The kids were about 5 and 3 years old, so obviously they distracted me in the car. (And at many other times during the day. Well, MOST other times during the day. Okay, ALL day.) The therapist suggested that, like many middleaged women who work and have children, too much was going on in my life. If I truly worried I was going to get into a car accident (and I truly was), I needed to do something about it. I wanted to knock her down and pull her hair: what the hell did she expect me to do? Give away one of the kids? Spray lavender on my pillow and take to bed for a week?
Let me say, first off, that there is a huge difference in shopping for clothes when you have recently lost thirty pounds, and shopping for clothes when you have recently gained thirty pounds. Guess which is more fun?