I’ve always been someone who thinks deeply. Some might call it a flaw, while others might see it as a gift. I often use terms like “overthinking” or “anxiety” to describe this tendency, which seems to encapsulate the essence of my pondering. Recently, I’ve found myself wrestling with a question that feels almost existential: does anything I do truly matter?
Did the time I spent at the playground with my children really count?
Did the conversations I had with my friend over coffee hold any significance?
Do the stacks of freshly folded laundry even matter?
Do the thoughts I poured into my latest blog post make a difference?
Will the chapters I’ve crafted for a book that may never be read hold any weight?
If I return to my career as a therapist, will that choice be meaningful?
The answer is yes. Everything matters. Not in a cataclysmic “my life will unravel if I don’t tidy up before guests arrive” sense, but because I choose to give meaning to my actions.
It matters that I didn’t have the chance to do the dishes this morning because I was busy cuddling a feverish toddler. That moment with my son counts. The dirty dishes symbolize the precious time I chose to spend with him.
Vacuuming the floor last night mattered too—not because of appearances, but because that simple act is therapeutic for me. Engaging in that repetitive motion allowed my mind to calm down and make sense of the chaos swirling around.
It mattered that I poured my heart into an article that captured the despair I felt during my struggles with addiction, as well as the hope I found when I first sought help. Sharing my journey provided hope to someone else who had lost their way. That article mattered because every life is valuable.
Even binge-watching Netflix last weekend had its significance. It offered my body the rest it desperately needed after pushing through pain for days. That time spent unwinding mattered because self-care is essential.
It also matters that I lost my temper and yelled at my 5-year-old last week. It was a loud, overwhelming moment that made me peek outside to see if neighbors were concerned. That incident opened my eyes to the anger I still carry and prompted me to find healthier outlets. My flaws matter because they show my children that I’m human, not superwoman.
Apologizing to my son right after my outburst mattered immensely. Explaining that everyone has moments of loss of control and that my love for him remains unchanged was crucial for our relationship. When he expressed that my yelling frightened him, that conversation forged a deeper bond between us.
It matters when my husband leaves his socks on the floor yet again. Every time I ask him to put his laundry away, it serves as a reminder of the life we share. These small annoyances matter because my husband is here with me; they’re a testament to our life together.
When my kids create chaos by drawing on walls, throwing dirt, or breaking beloved items, it matters. Their energy and joy represent their childhood, which is fleeting and precious.
The fights between my three boys, despite their bickering, highlight their bond as best friends. The late-night talks and secret play sessions are part of their brotherhood, and that connection is invaluable.
I matter. You matter. Every action and inaction matters. Moments—big and small—are what life is all about. While it may seem trivial whether the dishes or laundry are done today or next week, these tasks symbolize the care we provide for those we love.
Ultimately, everything contributes to this beautiful journey we call life. Living fully matters.
If you’re interested in similar reflections, check out this blog post, which delves into the intricacies of life and choices. Plus, if you’re looking for quality home insemination kits, CryoBaby offers reputable options. For a deeper understanding of the process, you might find this resource on artificial insemination helpful.
Summary:
In life, every moment counts, whether it’s time spent with family, moments of frustration, or the simple acts of daily chores. Each experience weaves together to form the fabric of our existence, reminding us that everything matters in shaping our journey.
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