I have this weird tradition.
Every morning before my shop opens I sit down on the floor with my cup of tea.
Each day I select a different location so I can see my shop from a different vantage point.
I stretch my legs and sip my mint tea and watch as the light streams through the windows creating patterns on the worn-out carpet and shining off my disgusting chrome fixtures.
I try to take a few deep breaths and mentally prepare myself for the day.
Sometimes I set a sales goal.
Other times I just let my mind wander.
I think about what I’m going to cook for dinner, how to bring my staff together as a team, why my 8-year-old is growing up so fast or what I can do to show my husband that I love and appreciate him.
Those are all good thoughts but as a recovering overachiever, ultimately those thoughts always turn into a self-help nightmare.
The nightmare where all you think is…what can I do better?
What can I do so that my little gear shop on the corner can be better than it was yesterday?
What can I learn so that I can be a better leader?
What should I do so I can serve my community better?
What do I need to do to take care of my Hike Like A Woman team better?
How can I be a better mother?
How can I be a better wife?
I think it’s great to always strive to be better. To try to be better.
But what if instead of striving so hard for better we took a second to appreciate where we are now?
What if we gave ourselves permission to say, “you know what, I’m doing a good job with…”
I’m doing a good job as a small business owner. I’m doing a good job as a citizen in my community. I’m doing a good job with Hike Like A Woman. I’m doing a good job as a wife. I’m doing a good job as a mother.
And you’re doing a good job too, at whatever it is you’re doing with your life.
There’s a time to do a better job and make it all better.
There’s a time to admit that you’re doing a good job.
Today I’m showing a little bit of self-care by focusing on the things in my life that I’m doing well.
Will you join me?
p.s. Remember a few years ago when HLAW was a place where we were authentic and vulnerable. I miss those days of writing about what was in my heart. I’m trying to do that more, to get back to what made me start HLAW in the first place. Let’s keep it real!