A Letter To Myself

Dearest Sara,

The new year can only start with a clean slate if you let it. 

You can bring all of that crud from last year with you on this year's journey - it's easy to do.  You can sling it over your back like an old army knapsack and lug it around and let it drag you down.  You can let the self-loathing take over your head before you've even breathed in this crisp January air.  You can let the list of little tasks overwhelm you until they are bigger than the day, longer than the night.  You can let your fears grow until they comsume your joy.  You can compare yourself to those who look like they do more, have more, be more until you seem small and insignificant and boring.  You can lose before you've even started. 

Or you can let it go. 

You can set yourself free of the didn'ts and couldn'ts and should'ves.  You can breathe deeply, knowing that when all is said and done you've got this.  You are capable and strong and imperfect and good enough.  You don't have to doubt yourself, compare yourself, or hate how you look.  You can dance in front of people.  You can sing out loud.  You can walk into a room full of strangers and feel capable of intelligent conversation because motherhood, rather than limiting your sphere, has opened your eyes to an entire world you never knew existed and you are good at it.  You are interesting and that is ever so much better than great beauty and an impressive resume.

And it is ok to be nervous in the same way that it is ok to fail.  The important thing is to try, to put yourself out there with bravery and integrity and to take yourself seriously with a good sense of humor.  Breathe deeply.  Laugh with your crazy, funny family.  Find that peace and strength that resides in your core, find it every day.  Get to know it.

And then get out there and fly.

Happy New (clean-slated) Year,

Sara