Diaries of The Breadman’s Daughter: Get Enough Sleep.

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Girl Warrior. Get enough sleep. Make this a top priority every night. And you will have better days. Guaranteed.

You live a busy 24-7 life. Always on the go. You’re stretched to the max most days. Demands are flying at you from every direction. You put others’ needs before your own. You’re on stress and strain overload. Worry, anxiety and pressure greet you at every turn. Everyone wants a piece of you.

And quite simply, you are running on empty.

When you get to this exhausting place Girl Warrior, it’s time to re-fuel. Truth is, this isn’t really an option. Not when your health and wellbeing are at stake. It’s time to shut it all down and take good care of yourself. And the best place to do this is in the bedroom.

This is your sanctuary, your peaceful retreat, and most importantly, your recovery refuge. Think calm, serene, tranquil and relaxing. So feather your nest in a way that fosters these feelings. Make it comfortable and cozy, safe and snug. Free of all distractions and disturbances. Make this a place for you to rest your weary bones and leave all the cares of the day behind.

Hang a Do Not Disturb sign on the door of your mind.

Begin a ‘get ready for bed’ ritual. Make this a habit you can’t live without. This is personal so it won’t look the same for all Girl Warriors. This matters not. What does matter is that you make it a nightly routine that helps you prepare for sleep. Start by slowing things down. Dim the lights, do some gentle yoga stretches, drink herbal tea, take a warm bath, listen to relaxing music, read a book, meditate, say your prayers and give thanks for all your many blessings and the abundance in your life.

Slip into your divinely inviting bed and allow the healing of your body, mind and spirit to begin. Sweet sweet dreams Girl Warrior.

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Diaries of The Breadman’s Daughter: Blindness Blindness.

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I’m a visual person and so grateful for the gift of sight. Something happened recently that served as an exquisite reminder of what a wonder it is to be able to see. I mean really see the world around us. From the miniscule to the monumental. From the fine grains of sand beneath our feet to the infinite stars that dust the midnight sky above our heads. And every extraordinary remarkable astonishing breathtaking thing in between.

What was the catalyst for this reawakening?

Recently, my Big Sis (aka BS) had a cataract removed from her right eye, the worst of the two afflicted by the disease. Her ability to see had grown increasingly dire over the past several years. Both close-up, and from afar, things were cloudy with a slight chance of rain.

Needless to say, our family was delighted, and quite frankly, relieved when the first cataract was removed. She was halfway to having her vision fully restored. Her eyes had been revised and she was given a shot at second sight.

Despite the challenges of our relationship, I love BS dearly and couldn’t wait for her to see things. But what I quickly realized was that her vision might have been restored but her ability to see had not. Her eyes were functioning physically but she could not see.

At a family dinner a few days after the surgery, she gushed exuberantly about all the things she could now see so well, the unbelievable things that her cataracts had kept hidden from her these past few years. It was such a marvel, a revelation beyond revelations.

The list was endless and exhausting. Dust on furniture, dirt in corners, scratches on vehicles, wrinkles on faces, blemishes on skin, grey in hair, cracks in walls, nicks on floors. On and on it went.

At first I found it rather humorous. But humor quickly changed to dismay, as this list appeared to be growing with each day that her vision improved.

And right now, as I write this, I just feel sad.

We live in such a lavish and graciously abundant universe. There is so much to see. So much awe-inspiring wonderment surrounds us. Although this particular wake-up call and reminder from BS, whose focus these past few weeks has been off-kilter and categorically on all the wrong things, was disturbing I cannot point the finger at her without pointing three back at myself.

In searching the darkest crevices of my heart, I know I’m just as bad. We’re one and the same, and not because we share DNA. We both lose sight of the big picture sometimes, and that has nothing to do with being sisters.

Far too often I have indulged in focusing on the flaws, the imperfections, the defects and deficiencies. I’ve been on faultfinding missions of epic proportions. I’ve only seen the lack and scarcity. Not enough. Half empty. I’ve squandered my vision carelessly. Recklessly. Audaciously.

And worse yet, I’ve taken it for granted.

I’ve chosen that impaired perspective over seeing the bounty and the plenty. The cornucopia. The beautiful. The splendor. The kind.

And most importantly, the good.

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