Thursday, December 19, 2013

Letting Stress Go

Stress is literally a killer.

It builds and builds and without an outlet, will explode.

I figured out today that it is not always the big things that can cause the burning in the heart and the pot boiling of the brain, but the slow simmers built over time that end up showing on your face.

I had no idea it showed.

Until someone told me yesterday to "don't stress, it will be ok."

I was perfectly dressed and coiffed, communicated clearly, my package was totally correct, yet the chips and chips of daily stress was starting to peak through the mask.

Life can be stressful, just in the daily things like getting kids up and to school on time, dealing with traffic, unkind people, the latte machine not working, running out of coffee beans, or more month than money, life has its stressors.

Dealing with them through outlets like exercise, creative arts, meditation, or honestly, sex, are ways of relieving the toxins that can poison the body. The toxins can kill the body if not released.  Little things become big things.

And it starts to show.

So I made up my mind that stress will not kill me.

There is more to life than working 90 hours to advance the cause of a corporation that will never remember my name.  More to life than fussing at my son to get up and clean up his room, who cares, who will it harm if his clothes from college are all over his room?  There are more important things than if my husband ever cleans out the garage.

Letting go of stress is in part giving oneself permission to be what we are, human, and flawed.

Not stressing over missing a phone call because you were busy listening to your daughter practice her violin piece to move up in a chair.  What was more important? The phone call from someone in a distant circle or the confidence of your daughter?  I chose my daughter, the phone call could happen another day.

Letting go also means giving oneself, myself, the right to choose what is best for me, even if eyebrows raise.  No one will die with me but me and going into my jubilee, I am not ready to take my last breath.
Not stressing over eating cereal for dinner because there was too much homework or the mountains of clean laundry that no one put away yet, those things can float away for there is only one life to live.

The heart beating fast and faster over a nonsensical argument about dirty dishes, dirty socks, and dirty towels can add up over time to land one on high blood pressure pills, diabetes medicine, or on stroke watch.

Life is too short, truly, no matter the age when the spirit leaves body.

So today, less than a week before Christmas with not a present purchased or an ornament unwrapped; with my sitting room floor covered in a papermaking project for my tween daughter; with instruments out of cases in the office and homework on the television room floor; I am making a decision to release, to breathe, to know that it can be cleaned in an hour or two.

Life is worth so much more.  Reminding myself, through deep breaths, to let it go, it will be ok.

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