Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Skunk

We had already been running at least two miles and only had about a mile left. KC saw it before we did, and pointed to the little tree where the skunk was foraging around. We crossed to the opposite sidewalk to avoid taking home an unpleasant souvenir, but I was so excited to see it and watched it the whole time we passed. I've always thought skunks were adorable. I feel sorry for the cute little things. No one ever wants to get close to them because of the one single thing they know about them. They stink.

It's a delicate thing, seeing the ugly side of yourself. Nobody wants to. When we do, we are either defensive of it, blaming our upbringing or our circumstances or our experiences. Or we become self-loathing and focus on that one ugly thing, forgetting all the other things that make us beautiful. I'm not talking about physical appearance.

I've been analyzing myself today. Already, before 7:00 am. I've been asking myself, "would I want a friend like me?", "would I want a spouse like me?", "would I want a mom like me?". Stepping outside myself like that is a little uncomfortable. I'm seeing things that I want to change. I don't know if it's a healthy practice or not, but we all have room for improvement. Most people won't tell you where you need it. And those who will usually make us angry in doing so.

This time of self-evalutaion inspires me to take action and make the changes I want to see in myself. I'm already making a mental list of what I'm going to do as soon as I finish writing this. It's also helped me to see some things I like about myself. I don't think it's arrogant to appreciate certain things about yourself. You should strive to be the kind of person you are proud of. Acknowledging what is good about you can give you the confidence you need to make the changes you want to make.

There is good and bad in everyone. Whether you are looking at someone else, or looking at yourself, if you look for the bad, you will find it. And if you look for the good, you will find it.

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