[Image via Sentimental J at Pinterest]
Not a day goes by that I don’t say this at least a thousand times. AT LEAST.
But I have to admit that I was resistant to this in the beginning. I don’t accept things very easily. Especially if it isn’t happening according to my wants/needs/desires/plans/methods/expectations/standards/ideals. I soon discovered (coincidentally, first with marriage, and then with the babies in the carriage) that I would need to embrace it. As a lifesaver…when I’m flailing in a deep sea of cheerios and puffs, cars and blocks, and kitchen utensils. Dog bowls. Baking sheets (D is amazingly strong and determined). Towels.
It is a helpful mantra too when I get to the point of inwardly pouting and throwing a tantrum.
It is what it is. Even saying it somehow forces me to breathe and pause. And each inhalation and exhalation is like gorging on acceptance. On love and peace. On the perspective that it is out of my hands, and that’s ok.
That’s ok. That’s ok. That’s ok.