Break the Mirror

I recently read a poem that included the lines, "To stay young, to save the world, break the mirror." I felt the message was to stop looking at yourself, inside and out. Focus on being present in the moment and doing good. These lines really resonated with me, not only because I am all too focused on losing the last few pounds of dreaded baby weight and examing my legs for spider veins every other day, but also because I am struggling with this blog. What? This blog? Yes! This blog! As I sit down to compose blog posts, I feel pressure to show my little world in its most positive light. A reframe of my life--like when someone visits the house for dinner, and I have been frantically cleaning the kitchen, lighting candles, cleaning the cat box, and brushing my hair into some semblance of order. "Of course I live in a Pottery Barn catalogue, don't you?" No, I don't. I live in the PetCo catalogue, massive amounts of hair included. And I don't have something wonderful and inspiring to say everyday to the world about the minutiae of my day. My life IS wonderful, but in the most general sense. I have a fantastic husband, a growing, healthy, charming child, pets that make me laugh, friends that bring me support and levity, I have coffee, ice cream, long walks, fresh air and the occasional yoga class. Everything is so sweet, and I am content. I just don't want to post a photo of the lentils I made last night for dinner. And I don't want to have to garnish them with cilantro, just so that the photo looks fancy enough to put on here. This is why I can't be a Blogger Goddess. I can't inspire you with anecdotes about who I want to be--who I am in ideal conditions--my best foot forward so that you feel like your day could be as sweet, fresh and meaningful as mine. I am breaking the Blog mirror. Which basically means that you have to simply believe that my life is wonderful without me telling you about my herb garden or the little spider I saw building her web so industriously or how I laughed so hard I cried when my baby cracked herself up by licking my ankle repeatedly. Crash, smash. Bang, boom. The mirror is cracked, dropped and gone. Now maybe I can write without feeling like I'm headed into my first school dance. xx