Counting the steps that I take everyday and the calories I've eaten and measuring my worth by the sum of the numbers left at the end of the day.
I'm exhausted by measuring. Measuring my benefit to the world by the size on the label of my jeans, by the number on the scale.
I am weary of tracking. Tracking the likes on my most recent Facebook post or the number of followers on my blog to determine if I was of value today.
I'm tapped out by the shrinking. The shrinking of my soul with every calorie and step and like counted for the day. By voice in my head that mocks me when the number on my scale rises or the number on my Fitbit doesn't meet the goal for the day.
I'm overwhelmed by the numbers. Digits flying to and fro in my mind but never really amounting to anything that matters in the world. I'm living a life consumed by numbers, statistics and sums that won't matter a damn bit at the end of my life. Numbers that really don't matter a damn bit now. And, yet, still- I am consumed by them.
Today I am firing my inner accountant and setting out to find a replacement that works to build me up instead of tear me apart from the inside out. I'm ready for an accountant of joy, that takes stock of the things in my life that matter: the things that will be spoken of after my death, the things that impact those around me in a positive way. There are plenty of those things to count and it is fine time that I forget about all of the other damn numbers.
I hope you will join me. Let us shuck off the numbers in favor of gathering ourselves up in love and tapping into the joy underneath the constant judgement- the joy that's been there all along and has been whispering for us to find it again.