The First Day of the Rest of My Life

I just finished reading a book by Cathy Lamb titled the first day of the rest of my life. I love to read. I love books, movies, anything that is uplifting or makes you think deeply on life and goals and dreams and trials and weaknesses. I am a therapist to my very core. Anyway, this book is excellent. It's a gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, bring-tears-to-your-eyes, make-you-smile read. It is not a book for the faint of heart - it's about two sisters who are heinously molested by their step-father and suffer such great loss (both of their parents and their innocence) in a short time and in the end come out on top, in the end they start living the rest of their lives with the ability to move past their pasts. But this entry is not really for me to provide a book report. This entry is for me.

My past is not anything close to these sisters' pasts. But my past is full of my own hurts, disappointments, tears, losses, failures. My past has its own laughter, sweet memories, loving family, best friends, successes, gains, strengths. I am not and have not ever been an optimist. I think I learned very young that people disappoint you. People hurt you, sometimes intentionally. You hurt other people. You disappoint others. I learned, somewhere along the way, that I was better off not really trying for things. The feeling of failure and loss was so formidable to me; I never tried things unless I was absolutely sure that I would be at least somewhat successful at it. I never really had to study to make good grades. I played the piano all the time, but I never really "practiced" for my lessons. I made friends easily, although keeping friends was another story, so I became "successful" at not getting attached to people. I never doubted my testimony of the Savior or the Gospel. I never doubted my ability to succeed in any career I chose. I was even, in a really disturbing way, good at maintaining an eating disorder. Life just sort of came easily to me, at a very average and basic level.

I have had very few moments in my life where I was happy. Really deep-down, feel in your bones, emanate from your soul happiness. I have brief, fleeting moments of contentment. I have far more moments of being aware of my downfalls, of being critical, of being too hard on myself and others, of expecting too much... And those painful lessons, some which seemed to repeat themselves over and over again. Sometimes I lack the confidence to dress the way I want, to be the wife, daughter, sister, aunt, or [insert relationship]-in-law that I want. I often find myself doubting my ability to be a good therapist, which is something I have rarely ever doubted - it's something I consider to be one of my strongest talents and callings in life. All of my losses and failures have added up somehow in my head against me. I know my life hasn't been that bad - that's not the point. My eyes have definitely been opened to the horrors of the world. My job as a therapist at a crisis unit, in community mental health, in different regions of the country has certainly shown me how truly evil the world is.

But here's the point.... Maybe life isn't about feeling content or happy. Maybe life is about those moments where you can feel deep down to your core fulfillment with whatever you're doing - as a therapist, or a stay-at-home mom or a wife. Life is about knowing who you are deep down inside and embracing that woman with a strength and grace that allows you to move mountains (even if that mountain is sometimes just tackling the dishes in the kitchen sink). Maybe life is about making every day the first day of the rest of your life, a day to start over, a day to be grateful for what you have, a day to try again at bettering your relationships with anyone you have in your life that matters to you.

So here's to making today the first day of the rest of my life. I want to be happy, successful, fulfilled, loving, kind, and to emanate the warmth I know I have the ability to feel. I want to be charitable and compassionate towards my family, my friends, and anyone I come in contact with. I want to be creative, to feel at the end of every day that I've accomplished something that serves my Father in Heaven and to wake up every morning with the motivation and gratitude to try again. I will fail. I'm allowed to fail. I am human. But I am also allowed to succeed and to savor those successes and keep trying for them. As the character in the book says, as cheesy as it might be, "Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm starting over. I'm redoing myself."

Wish me luck.