A few years ago, I was pissed off. Really infuriated. Not like "I'm having a horrible day" mad. Not even a hot, volcanic rage that explodes and then is all over. This was a cold, slow-burning fury. But I didn't want to be mad. So I convinced myself I wasn't. A year later, I was still mad. It took another year before I was able to move beyond the anger. During that time, I lost many opportunities for love and beauty in my life.
I lost it a little yesterday afternoon. Actually, to be honest I usually lose it a little on Saturdays. Sometimes the weekends remind me of the best ice cream cone in the world, falling on the ground about two licks in. Weekends look so delicious, and my mouth waters with the anticipation. But then, as soon as I am on the edge of really enjoying them, something goes wrong and I end up crying in frustration. The reason for the frustration and tears? I try to squeeze all my time for my passions and hobbies into the weekend, and it just never works out.
I am so glad you are here! Welcome to my blog. This is your space, too. My name is Amy, and I am no stranger to the ups and downs of life. Join me as we search for beauty, authenticity, tell our truth, and hold space for each other in the messiness of life.