I read that phrase recently and it really stuck with me. I think a lot of progress actually works that way and it pretty much is what I am holding on to right now in my Middle Life.
I haven't had a lot to say recently. The last few weeks have been hard. Lots of thoughts in my head, but not a lot of them making even remotely close to enough sense to write down. I keep thinking "two steps forward, one step back...and I am in the one step back part."
Why? Because we lost another baby and when you get to miscarriage number six there isn't a whole lot left to say. And none of it is nice.
So I got to practice, again, focusing on the land of the living...but it was HARD. It was imperfect progress. It was crying myself to sleep, but still getting up to love on my boys. It was saying "why this AGAIN??" while still taking my little ones for a walk. It was my heart breaking for my lost baby at the same time I was smiling at my silly toddlers.
It was imperfect. But it was progress. Because I made it through. Because I didn't just say "I hate the Middle Life". Because I did my best. Each day. I know I did my best.
I actually lowered my personal expectations/plans/household chores quite a bit. I reminded myself (ok, fine, my dad reminded me) that sometimes just doing the next thing IS thriving.
Sometimes Thriving is just not giving up today.
And it is still progress. Beautiful, messy, imperfect progress.
Why? Because we lost another baby and when you get to miscarriage number six there isn't a whole lot left to say. And none of it is nice.
So I got to practice, again, focusing on the land of the living...but it was HARD. It was imperfect progress. It was crying myself to sleep, but still getting up to love on my boys. It was saying "why this AGAIN??" while still taking my little ones for a walk. It was my heart breaking for my lost baby at the same time I was smiling at my silly toddlers.
It was imperfect. But it was progress. Because I made it through. Because I didn't just say "I hate the Middle Life". Because I did my best. Each day. I know I did my best.
I actually lowered my personal expectations/plans/household chores quite a bit. I reminded myself (ok, fine, my dad reminded me) that sometimes just doing the next thing IS thriving.
Sometimes Thriving is just not giving up today.
And it is still progress. Beautiful, messy, imperfect progress.
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