1. I have very little motivation right now. That’s not exactly true — I’m motivated to walk the dogs, go to yoga and aqua aerobics and Pilates, read books, watch TV, take naps, and hang out with Eric, write and meditate a little, and see friends, but that’s about it.

2. I’m not getting as much done as I’d hoped. I had big PLANS for all I was going to accomplish while I was on a break from work this summer, and even though I’ve gotten a few things done, it’s nowhere near what I’d imagined.

3. I needed a break. At some point when I’m not moving as fast as I want, when things aren’t happening at the speed I want, I have to accept that maybe I actually need to slow down, take a break, get some rest — and that it’s totally okay to do so.

One wish: May we allow ourselves to slow down, trust ourselves to set the rhythm of our days, and know that our value isn’t measured only by what we accomplish.

1. How I look has WAY more to do with how I feel than anything else. It’s a purposeful shift I’ve been making for the past four years. When I make choices about what to eat, I eat what I want, what my body is hungry for, not what I “should” or what I will beat myself up for later because I “shouldn’t.” When I choose how to move, it’s about joy, what feels good, not what will burn the most calories or something I can use to punish myself with for “being bad.” I am constantly checking in with myself to see what I want — a nap? some attention? a long walk with the dogs? yoga? meditation? to finish a chore that’s been nagging at me? to make some space? And you know what’s happened because of that shift in attention? I look like someone who is taking care of herself. I can look in the mirror and see myself, no matter what meets me there, with love and gratitude and even a little bit of joy in my heart.

2. I can’t please everyone. As the joke goes, “what do you think you are, pizza?” No matter how hard I try, there’s always going to be more suffering, more people who need help, more things that need fixed, someone who isn’t happy with how things are, as well as someone who’s going to judge my approach. They will say I’m not giving enough or doing it right or am putting my effort in the wrong place.

3. I am the only one who knows what enough looks like. Only I know how much water I need to drink and if I’ve had enough. Only I know how much sleep I need and if I’ve had enough. Only I know the limits of my body and the level of my pain. Only I know how I feel, what I need and what I want — what I’m hungry for.

One wish: May we trust ourselves and others to know what we need, to know what enough looks like, and allow space for each other to discover those things for ourselves.