Things that aren’t that deep
Happy Sunday!
To combat my Sunday blues I’ve decided to curate a list of things that my anxiety thinks are big deals but in reality…aren’t that deep.
Feeling awkward at work when someone I don’t really know joins me in the kitchen and I don’t know what to say besides “how was your weekend?”
Doing an exercise wrong at the gym - no one’s watching.
Sending an email to the wrong colleague at work…we’ve all done it!
Occasionally getting a croissant at work when I’m trying to lose weight.
Taking the wrong turning and adding 20 minutes to a journey
Feeling like I don’t earn as much as my friends…who cares! We’re all on our own journey
Feeling like I’ve used too many exclamation marks in an email or text. Honestly, whatever - I’m enthusiastic!
Now, I don’t want to invalidate any of the anxiety I have around these things but sometimes it’s good to remember that it really just isn’t that deep.
I’d love to hear your examples of things that just aren’t that important but in the moment you get all flustered!
Heather leaving the hollow
Love
Love isn’t a lightning bolt.
It’s a lunch packed. A ride offered. A question remembered.
It’s a name said the right way. A body held the soft way. A meal not skipped.
Love is maintenance. Love is mess.
You might miss it because it rarely feels like a movie.
It feels more like a cracked bowl being used anyway.
More like a dog-eared note in the corner of a lunch bag.
More like someone listening to you talk about a thing they don’t care about
because they care about you.
Love without integrity is choreography.
Love without action is theater.
Love without presence is a promise unsigned.
Sometimes we forget that love includes grief.
Sometimes we forget that love has nothing to do with being liked.
Sometimes we forget that love means standing in front of someone else’s storm
even when you’re soaked through yourself.
So, here is the reminder:
Love is how we tend to what matters.
And tending is slow.
It’s less like treasure
and more like soil.
You don’t need to be perfect at it.
But you do need to keep showing up.
For the stranger.
For the friend.
For the parent.
For the one who failed you.
For the one you failed.
And for yourself.
Because yes, that counts too.
Two brothers in their seventies still check on each other every Sunday.
A chosen family of friends takes turns watching each other’s kids.
A son forgives a father who ran out of words before he ran out of time.
This is what love looks like.
Not grand, not spotless.
But real.
And stronger than sentiment.
Try this:
Offer one act of love that costs you comfort.
Nothing big. Just real.
1. Making sure the kids aren’t late to school. Being tardy doesn’t REALLY matter
2. Feeding them at a specific (albeit arbitrary) time. I was hungry A LOT when I was a kid and I turned out alright 🧙♂️
3. Really, anything time/schedule related.