Since our weekend getaway to LA, I have felt so incredibly inspired. Honestly, more inspired, creative, and open than I have felt in a verrrrrrrry long time.
So then what is the dang problem Alyssa?
I have not found the time to write. To just empty my brain onto paper. Sure, I’ve talked my thoughts aloud. To the air, to my almost 14-month-old (going on 14-years-old) daughter, to my completely and totally invested in his pilot training, husband. But guess what? Once those thoughts make their quick escape route on the highway from my brain to my mouth, they literally vanish, evaporating into thin air.
Oh, and not to mention, I have been procrastinating like a mother. And not the child-bearing kind. I have wasted countless seconds and minutes “Pin”ning my life away, scrolling through Instagram, my Google photo album. You get the picture, need I say more?
And as I was getting ready for bed, following our usual (super cute I should add) nighttime routine, my husband and I chatted for the few brief moments that we routinely share with one another before bedtime each night. As I complained to him about the lack of time I have each day to spend on self-love and sweet, short, and to-the-point relaxation methods, I realized something.
Sure, I may not have the endless hours that few have to flip on the television, and catch an episode of Californication. Or go for a leisurely walk. Or read a book.
No, I can tell you right now. Between being a military wifey (and all of the independence that that title bears to hold) and bein’ an (in essence) “military” mama (also known as, raising your child(ren) independently majority of the time), I really do not have the whole “time” thing on my side.
But, what I do have? I have the creative mind that God so wonderfully blessed me with. I have the courage, drive, determination that He, and He alone granted me.
So? When (God, life, the Universe) whatever/whichever higher being that you so choose to believe in and subscribe to, hands you lemons, you make the damn lemonade. . .
In other words mama, you make the damn time.
. . . and I am talking, a full-blown, state-of-the-art, boujee as all hell, lemonade stand.
In a matter of moments, throughout my conversation with my dear hubby, I snapped out of it. I snapped out of the confines of my small-mindedness. I broke free from the barriers of self-pity and negative talk, and I took out a piece of scrap paper from my nightstand and began writing maniacally. Words, phrases, short incomplete sentences. I let everything out and it felt FREAKIN’ AMAZING.
Sometimes mama, you just gotta let it out. Whether it be exhaling your breaths of negativity, anxiousness, self-doubt. Whether it be expressing yourself creatively. Saying aloud how you feel. Let. It. Out.
Release mama, release.
As mamas, our lives have changed. We must adapt to the new and beautiful life that God has not only created for us, but has blessed us with. We may no longer have an hour of peace and solitude to carry out our morning beauty routine. We may not have the finances to buy the countless beauty products that we once felt were life itself. *Rolls eyes* Hello Maskcara.
All in all y’all, we may not have the time that we once had to do and spend the time (that we think is necessary to achieve perfection) on the things that we need or want to do. Example, I may not have the countless hours that I once felt was unequivocally necessary to write thoughtfully and meaningfully. To fold my sheets perfectly. To clean my house “the right way.”
But, in the end, what we sometimes fail to realize, is that as long as we are breathing, all we have is time.
So, advice mamas, make the most of whatever extra time that you do have. Whether it be five minutes or 50, make those minutes matter. Don’t let yourself get hung up on what used to be. Embrace what is now. Live in the now.
Be here now.