The Art of Detachment

Glory to God, I’m headed to Palm Springs! I’ve scraped, I’ve consigned, I’ve submitted Aflac claims, and set aside my tax return to be able to get away.
As any mom knows, there’s always the additional steps of arranging child are, pet care, mail pick up, bill paying, and house cleaning that make the actual departure seem like a far away dream. Oh but, I will not be moved! What makes this trip special is that it is actually to honor and celebrate my mother’s 60th birthday. She hasn’t been on a plane in decades, and she is way overdue for time away. So, alas, my mother, my sister and I are waiting to board the plane.
As I prepare to leave, I am pushing myself to start this journey off right. The element of expectation, especially an all female, family getaway, is of the utmost importance. I refuse to entertain the uncertainties that could annoy or derail the fun, who might say what or do what, sticking to the plans, or what i will look like in my bathing suit. Nope. Not this time playa.
Did I finish all of the work I wanted to complete before I left?
Not even.
Is every dish out the sink?
Hell to the no.
Who’s gonna put the trash out?
I don’t give a damn.
I wanna look like this when I come back:

I’m detaching. Looking forward to a new place, baking in the sun, and getting my mom drunk. Here’s some strategies I’m using to disconnect:
Packing with my mood in mind. I’ve never been a fan of my legs…they’re thick to say the least. Sturdy and reliable yes, but I’m never quick to showcase them. With that in mind, I packed sundresses, maxi skirts, and capris. No shorts. They wreck my confidence, and they put me on the on ramp to negative thinking. Trying to shop for shorts or even bothering to pack them is a fool’s errand. This may seem small or ludicrous to you, but I’m giving you real deal. I only packed what I feel cute in…to hell with the other stuff. I’m lifting up me for me, as I am, devoid of comparisons to the status quo.
Reflect and committ. I wrote down how I want to feel when I come home in comparison to how I feel now, and committed to doing 3 things to reach my desired state of mind: journal, listen, laugh. My spirit, as well as my writing, need attention. I believe They will truly bwritings being in the moment. What’s there to laugh at, you ask? Well, you’ve never met my mothers or sister. Crazy. As. Hell. I will resist stressing the differences between us, and just sit back and appreciate them for the women that they are.
Take pics. By capturing the visuals of the trip, I will remain in a place of anticipation and awareness, looking for the best in my surroundings and cultivating positive memories, stories, and reflections.
This is a stretch, for real. As a matter of fact, I’m just hearing an announcement that my flight has yet again be delayed and I will miss my connection. I’m being tested. Nothing a rum and coke can’t fix though. Hollllaaaaaaaa!

Pray for Betty as I enter in.



One thought on “The Art of Detachment

  1. Melody Rodriguez says:

    Have a wonderful time, enjoy the sun and the time together. I will have to remember your packing philosophy the next time I get an occasion to pack for a trip. See you when you get back.

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