It seems each day is a race, when it should be a sit-down, have coffee read a book kinda day. We spin so fast our souls can't keep up and we feel disconnected, depressed, and alone because part of ourselves is missing. I keep imagining my soul sitting in a huff in the kitchen, arms crossed, saying, "I am not moving another inch until she gets her sh*t together and slows down.".
The Dalai Lama has written a book called, "The Art of Happiness." Hundreds of pages discussing the philosophy of embracing happiness. Never once does he consider how the hell a working mother can sit down long enough to think; let alone think deep thoughts about the nature of the universe. I spend all day at work and all night moving at the speed of light helping others be happy, feel protected, and well rested.
Buddha, the Dalai Lama, Mohammed, Christ, etc... none of them were women. I hope they reincarnate as women and offer up sincere apologies for proposing we take on one more thing that isn't related to school, dinner, sports, sleep, and the flu.
Did any of them ever have to clean up vomit at 3:00am or rush to the hospital holding a screaming eight-year-old with a broken arm and still make it to work in the morning?
I didn't think so.
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