"the unfamiliar becomes familiar simply by the doing of it." - dr. laura.
it's 6:00 a.m. and i'm actually awake! can you believe it? no, really - 6:00 AM! for a myriad of reasons, i think waking up in the morning is my ticket...my ticket to freedom, to breaking chains, to feeling better about the whole day - each and every day. but, waking up any day before 9:00 a.m. is unfamiliar.
my favorite question - that i relate to everything, too often - is, "which comes first, the chicken or the egg?" i've wrestled with this concept over and over and there isn't an answer, of course, but nonetheless, i wrestle. i want to know which comes first. i want to know the proper progression and process by which we achieve a result, an outcome, a favorable ending...so, just show me where to start already!
and dr. laura is here to lend a hand. which comes first?
the doing of it.
whatever you want to accomplish or achieve, just begin it. start somewhere. do it. and the repeated doing of it will cause a shift. the shift will be from doing something that is unfamiliar to doing something that comes almost naturally (but you will know better - you will know that it came from days upon days of doing something unnaturally, not because you felt like it or wanted to, but, instead, because you wanted the end result of familiarity so badly).
"a year from now, you will have wished you started today."
well, i started today with the unfamiliar task of getting up with the sun. let's see in a year from now what that translates into. will i actually enjoy getting up before anyone to spend time alone, in a quiet house? will i have achieved greater successes with my many projects? will i have made space for peace? will i have become a better mother, because i've become a better me? only time will tell - but i'm starting, i'm beginning with the unfamiliar and i've brought hope along with me. its tucked into my tennis shoes when i walk the dog. its poured out of my shampoo bottle when i take a warm shower. its sprinkled on my cheeks with the stroke of a brush. its the ink that spells each word in my journal. its in the quiet breath i breathe, when mine is the only one i can hear. i'm taking it with me - hope - this day, and every day, in an attempt to transform what is strange and new, difficult and unwanted, awkward and clumsy, into the awesome and comfortable, easy and desirable, graceful and natural.
hope, take me to the familiar, this day, tomorrow, and the next.