Wishing it were easier

My daughter sat at the piano the other day, shoulders slumped.  She was struggling with a new piece she was learning.

I encouraged her not to give up, but she sighed and said, “I just wish this was easier.”

Don’t we all?

I was having a difficult struggle myself that day.  I found myself wishing the same thing.

Since then, those little struggles have grown until I have been tempted to be overwhelmed and washed over by them.

(Prepping for Halasana in my pjs, courtesy of my shutter-happy 6-year-old.)

I find myself wishing it could all be easier.

But this morning, I rose with the sun and stepped out into the morning air for a moment before my morning yoga routine.  I had six very sick people inside my house and a weight of worries on my shoulders.  I felt like crying.  Sometimes the world feels like too much.

But then, that first breath of morning air hit me, and I knew.

We are better for the struggle.  Easy gets us nowhere.

No struggle means no growth.  It means no understanding and no awareness of anything besides yourself.

(And in between taking pictures of her dog book, she snaps another shot of mom.)

I’ll take the struggles.  I’ll try to take them gladly.

Of course I wish it were easier.  But if I want to be more, it can’t be.

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