Fuck It! The Art of being Free

Fuck it! That's my new motto, most days. How do I live my life free and easy? A hard question to ask ones self on most days but today seems to be especially difficult. Not sure why I am in a funk, could be I want to do something different in life. Could be a friend recently died, wayyyyy too young. Could be I want to be out traveling the world. Who knows for sure, not me (shoulders shrug). But today I ran across this blog, the one you are reading right now. The one I started last month. The one where the first thing I put down in it was a picture. A picture where I felt free. Where the day was easy. Where there was laughter and joy, discovery and risks and I decided to reflect on the art of saying fuck it. 

When I was young used to be embarrassed by my body. Not ashamed, because, quite frankly, I thought I had a smoking hot one at the time, just embarrassed.  People looked at me weirdly, lustfully, and quite frankly just plain wrong. I didn't like it, didn't ask for it and was embarrassed by it.  

As I grew older, gained weight and stretch marks and wrinkles and dimples in places I REALLY didn't want them in, I was embarrassed, but this time it was more ashamed. Good lord, how did I let myself go? And WHY did I let myself go?  What caused this change? And because I am normally honest with myself, I reflected and realized it occurred one donut at a time. One day lazying around on the couch, in front of the television at a time. One day spent in bed rather than out moving. One lacrosse game watching my boy play while I ate my bag of junk. One day spent sitting in a chair watching the boys ride their bikes at the skate park, rather than joining in. One day behind a desk at work trying to write a schedule. One day, one day, one day. 

And if I am really honest with myself I can say it wasn't JUST those things. I grew older, experienced death, divorce, my boys growing up and leaving. Depression and desperation and indecision. Gravity reared its ugly head and kept not only my feet grounded here but also began to pull the rest of my body down too. My body stopped working as it use to work and I no longer bounced back from physical exercise in an hour or day. Now it's sore feet, back and neck pains and don't even get me started on how my knees feel, even when I am DOING NOTHING AT ALL.  I mean, WHAT THE HELL?!?!

Sometimes I think, how is this possible that in such a few short years I transitioned from a hard bodied hottie (my husband said it so it MUST be true) to this? It's been an eye opening experience to say the least.

Then I turned 50 last year and had a few epiphanies:

• I don't have a lot of time left but I also DO have a lot of time left. Shit!
• If I want to experience something new I need to do it NOW! Tomorrow is not guaranteed. 
• My body is my body and I need to love it and me. Who gives a crap what others think!
• I can't wait until I retire to write a book or paint or start my own business. I need to make time in my life to do these things while my brain is still working.
• I need to invest in my relationships, listen more and be a better friend.
• My kids might be grown but they're still mine so I should spend the time I can, when I can, doing the things that make me smile with them, not just watching them. 
• Embrace the art of saying FUCK IT! Just live.

I would love to tell you that I do these things consistently and actively and purposely on the daily but that would be a total lie. I have my moments where I wallow in blah. I eat my donuts and sink into the couch for TV/book time. I say no to hikes and motorcycle rides. I will do them another day. I whine about my body hurting and my wrinkles appearing and not having time with my boys. I don't pick up the grandkids every chance I have. I don't write what is on my mind or paint or travel or embrace the art of saying FUCK IT!

Then there are days I do and those are the days where I feel alive. I feel accomplished and proud and invigorated. I feel smoking hot and unashamed. I am not embarrassed about how I look. I feel great. I woke up today NOT feeling this way but as I type this, the cares of the world are slowly falling off of my shoulders. I look at the picture of me naked up top with my arms flung wide and my head looking out at the beauty that was surrounding me and I am reminded that it's all right. It's alright to have bad days. It's alright to eat donuts and watch tv or read a book or say no to that hike. It's alright to stay in bed. It's just alright, AS LONG AS, it doesn't last. As long as I limit the time I am doing these things and eventually get back up. As long as I remember those epiphanies I had and jump back into life and say FUCK IT!  As long as I live life with my arms stretched wide, ready to take on whatever it has to offer saying "BRING IT ON BITCHES! I CAN HANDLE IT!".

Today I hope you are reminded, no matter what, it's alright.