Keep on, Keeping on

Have you ever had a day like this?

A day where you feel like your nest has come crashing down,
and your eggs are splattered in the weeds nearby?

A day of: 

Defeat.

Recently, in these dissertation days, my day can feel like this before it even gets started.  I dredge myself out of my bed and place my feet on the floor, feeling like everything I hold dear is splattered there around them.

It's the daily grind of pulling my brain out of my head that's got me down, and the overwhelming sense that no matter how long and hard I work, this beast will never be all that I want it to be.  

Plus, I miss my life.

A long time ago, however, I learned that defeat is something you can give in to, but it's also something you can fight.   And fighting, it turns out, is deeply embedded in my bones.  

I'm a stinker, if nothing else.  

Hence, I have turned my vision these days to the beauty of nature,

 in my house,

 on my walk to work,

 and from  my deck view--

in all directions.

I have embraced the audacity of

 making questionable fashion choices,

and sitting with the God who is the only defense,
my only source of strength.

I have turned my focus to savoring moments of every day life,

 in gratitude for the necessities 

 and the extras I've been given, 

 and for the process that living life can be.

I have called myself to notice when the process leads to a product,

and that the product is healthy and good.

I have sought out new places to be, 

working alongside of the rest of the working people,

diligently observing how life goes on, flows forward,
and is full and thriving in all of its subtlety.

And, at the end of the day,
I have given myself permission to take a moment 

 to reflect on the connecting web of thought and word,

and to remember those

who are fighting with and for me.

At the end of the day,

I am speaking truth to myself, 

saying--

Listen to me, baby girl. 

This journey that you're on?  

It's amazing--

in all of its complexity.  

Keep on, keeping on.