When life starts to get stressful with a lot of avenues and choices and decisions, I like to think I’m on the precipice of a “f*ck it” moment.
In a more mature, spiritually conscious realm of thinking, one might call this a “surrender” moment. But I’m a New Yorker. New Yorkers curse. And the familiar is comforting. Evidenced by my father’s thinking that s*it and d*mn are not curse words, merely colorful figurative language. He’s been corrected in his line of thinking many times, to no avail.
So, I use foul language. I drop f bombs from time to time. (Read: I do it all the time, but I’m trying to be conscious that not everyone approves of this, so I’m sugar coating.)
Cursing feels good. Because it reminds me of a time when I lived in a place where it was commonplace. Before 3 kids and all that comes with raising a family.
I had an “f-it” moment this week. I am always moving toward peace. I seek the calm. I seek the tranquil, but sometimes it’s hard to find.
I want to make decisions and think things through. I want to rationalize. I want to find reasons for things and tell myself a story about “the way the world works.” There’s just one problem with all of that: sometimes the stories in my head don’t line up with reality. Sometimes that isn’t the way the world works. Sometimes no one knows how the world really works, or things change and the norms established have become a thing of the past.
So I have to say f*ck it.
I have to give up, give in, and let life show me the direction. I have to surrender, lean into faith and let the chips fall. I have to be quiet and patient and trust that life will work out, because so far, it has.
Every. Single. Time.
So, F*ck It.
This week, ever since I said those two precious, magical little words, I’ve found peace.
What brought you peace today? Share the peace.