I like making big, sweeping revisions. I’d rather dump the whole drawer and replace it all, or pull the house to pieces and remake it. The tiny, daily things are difficult. Maintaining motivation is difficult. Grand gestures make more of an impression – and it’s so satisfying to start over again and again.
But reclaiming a vision and rebuilding a self require consistency – something I’ve never had much interest in. So now, here I am in my late thirties trying to build habits and discipline myself. It’s not easy.
I’ve got motivation though – my daughter has noticed that we share this failure to be consistent. It’s a family failing. She doesn’t like what she sees of it in herself, and her longing to improve has me longing to improve alongside her. Looking at my children, learning how they see me and how they see themselves, has me longing deeply – and daily – to be someone beautiful in their eyes. I want them to be inspired by me in the little, quotidian choices.
Today, while getting dressed I realized that my clothes are a mess. I gathered up an armful of them and set about mending. But even with mended essentials, my clothing drawers are a mess. 90s (or even 2015) Masha had lovely clothes, scrubby clothes, and a few misguided pieces lingering in the back of the drawer. I’m not ready to overhaul my wardrobe today, and maybe overhauling isn’t the best option after all?
But I am tossing some, packing away others, and mending what’s left to create the beginnings of a wardrobe that doesn’t leave me feeling trapped in my own inconsistencies. There’s something about being dressed well that makes the rest of the day feel welcoming. It’s a tiny change, but one I hope will trickle down into the dusty corners of my soul. I am trying to consistently look the part for my own dreams-come-to-life.