レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 12月16日 08時17分

I'm feeling sad. Posting this photo because it makes me happy. Poppy has started kicking me so hard now, like a little ninja, it takes my breath away and it's so beautiful.
It's a strange feeling, being sad in all the happy. Maybe I've overdone it. Feeling drained. Used. I think sometimes people assume I'm this super human person and that I have it all figured out but the truth is, I always put myself last. Prioritizing my own happiness is something I have to remind myself to do every day. When I take time for myself I always feel guilty. There is so much suffering in the world; I should be ashamed of myself, thinking these thoughts! But then I remember: I matter. My trivial issues matter. They matter because they effect how I behave in the world.

So I was thinking about what I need, blatantly. Silly stuff. Right now, all I want is for someone to decorate our Christmas tree because it's just standing there and it's giving me total anxiety. I want to never open my inbox again. I want a gardener to water the plants because I fucking hate it. I want someone to walk our dogs because if I don't do it like clockwork I feel overwhelmed with guilt. I want the walls painted in Poppy's room and a closet that's not a huge mess. I want a pedicure. A glass of wine. And I want to have at least 200 pages written of this book so I can stop stressing about it. I want to sit here and only focus on these ninja kicks coming from inside, nothing else. Oh, and I want to cry. A really good cry. But I'm just too tired.
See - I have no real problems. Everything is lovely. But maybe too much loveliness makes you forget to make space for the sad and then suddenly it overwhelms you? I don't know. I think about Aleppo and I want to smack myself in the head with something. There is so much pain in the world. Who am I to complain about anything at all?
The thing is, if I don't, if we don't, if we sit with our own trivial sadness and hold it all in, it eventually consumes us and we become incapable of action. So I remind myself; it's ok. That's why I write. And share. And vent. So tomorrow I can get back out there and fight the good fight and not get caught up in my goddamn Christmas tree.

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