On Being Better

I want to be better. Better than myself as I am at this moment. Certainly, better than I have been for the last 40+ years.

It’s a strange thing, and I believe it’s a thing that comes with age, for women. I don’t know about men. Twenty years ago, I looked in the mirror and all I saw was my flaws. “Oh, your nose is too big, your hair is too flat, look at all those zits…” I wasn’t very nice to me.

Now, I look in the mirror and I’m fine with I see on the outside. What happens now is that I am looking more into my heart and soul, and seeing flaws.

I want to be braver. Less judgmental. Less cynical. More loving. I want to be less over-sensitive to anything that sounds like a personal criticism (especially when it comes from my husband.) I want to be more giving, less selfish. More understanding. I should pray more and swear less.

How can I teach myself to be less afraid to be creative? I want to embrace my creative side and not be a scolding mother to myself, telling myself I am wasting time with all this nonsense. Come to think of it, I want to stop being a scolding mother to myself entirely (which would make this post a moot point).

I want to be nicer to the me that feels different, disapproved of, discouraged. I want to convince me that my differences are special, not problematic.

I want to be better at thinking before I speak. I spend entirely too much time with my foot in my mouth. And I want to let myself do nothing once in a while, without guilt.