Sundays are for

Sundays are for

Sundays are for reflecting.

They’re for early walks in my crisp lawn with our foster dog who’d been pining at our bedroom door for about a half hour before I took him outside at 8:30am.

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They’re for relaxing sore shoulders and arms from killer Crossfit workouts the last few days. They’re for Fiest, The Weepies, and The Postal Service. They’re for nature and deep breaths. They’re for green tea in mugs from a best friend.They’re most definitely for no make-up and bed head curls.

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They’re a reminder that this life I lead is beautiful, and though it be different from my high school classmates, college peers, or any other person I have met along the way – it is right. It is mine.

Sundays are a reminder that comparison is the thief of all joy.

I say again,

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Sundays are for whatever spiritual experience one desires, whether that be in a church, in nature, or in good company. They are a reminder of my worth and my successes. They’re a day to build myself up and not tear myself down. They’re for shouting from the rooftops, “I am married and I am successful. I have a career and I followed love. I moved across the world for another, and yet always remain myself. I am a feminist and I love a man dearly. I am selfish and selfless, every single day.”

Because on Sundays that just needs to be said.

Sundays are also for turning off the computers and the phone, and practicing mindfulness. For living in the moment. So with that last thought,

Happy Sunday, folks.

Camille Mae (2)

 

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