Ever put on a pair of jeans that were so freakin’ tight you felt like you couldn’t breath let alone undertake motion? The type where getting them up over the nether regions involved suuu-cking in and floor dancing. (Not that I know about this sort of thing first hand. I’ve, er, seen people on tv do it.)
How about clothes that are too big on you? Pants that you have to keep pulling up or a big top that you have to keep tucking in? Sure, you can at least breath, but it’s nowhere near comfortable.
Now think of your favorite pair of jeans. You put them on and they seem to know every part of your body – they don’t restrict your movement, they forgive your weaknesses, they give you good butt. Darned important, that.
You put them on and life’s instantly better. They’re not too this or too that – they’re you.
My family, originally from Kentucky, has lived in the midwest (Kansas, Iowa), in the north (Indiana, Illinois), in the south (Kentucky) and on an island in the Gulf of Mexico (Pensacola Beach, Florida). We’ve done Wichita, Pensacola, Chicago, Louisville, and Minneapolis as well as Webster City, Mulvane, Derby, Earlington and Washington (Indiana). We have had more fun and in more places than I could’ve ever imagined. But whenever we return to Kentucky – which I’ve found that we always do – something strikes me immediately. “This fits.”
While we were living on the island, it became obvious that we’d soon have to move. Family illnesses back home coupled with a job offer Michael got in Owensboro spelled it out for me in the white sugar sand – Adios, paradise! I wasn’t quite myself for the final two months there. I was so depressed and sad, knowing we were about to drive over the bridge for the final time. I had trouble even making conversation for fear of choking up mid sentence. I’ve always been a very upbeat, positive person, so I didn’t recognize (or care for!) the sad person I kept running into in the mirror. I had just fallen so in love with the ocean and everything near it.
Anyway, fast forward months into the future. We’re back in the land of the green: Trees, hills, robins, hummingbirds, horses and more horses, and people sitting on front porches waving at passers-by…no one knows a stranger here! The motto in this part of the world is, “Strangers are only friends you’ve yet to meet.” Everyone wants to be your friend, everyone wants to talk, nearly everyone has a smile for you – and a hug if you’ll let them.
Instead of pelicans and gulls, we have robins, blue jays, cardinals and hummingbirds. Instead of palm trees, there’s every other variety known to man. You won’t see dolphins but you can’t miss the horses, deer, rabbits and squirrels. Everyplace is it’s own paradise. I had misplaced that information somewhere in the seas. I found it again in the trees.
One afternoon, about 4 months P.I.(Post Island) while driving through my hometown Madisonville Kentucky – I thought “This fits.” I could see the writing on the side of a hunter green hill, “Welcome Home!”
I got to thinking about this recently. As they’d say around here, I got to studying on it. How often do we try to fit into something in life that isn’t our size? It’s as silly as floundering on the floor trying to get size 8s up over a size 14 butt. Why would we choose to RESTRICT and BIND ourselves or our lives?
Life’s way too big and far too grand for restaints.
How often do we wallow in something that’s too much for us to handle – pulling at this, tugging at that. We get so busy trying to FIT IN that we wear ourselves out and fail to enjoy life.
Plain and simple. We have to find the place, the occupation, the lifestyle, the LIFE that fits us. If we do it any differently, we’re just wearing someone else’s life.
Make each moment count double,
The Mental Fitness Center