Only I am to blame for my bad decisions.

bad-decisionsI had some kind of epiphany this morning while out for a run with the dog.

(I swear, I do my most creative problem solving, meditating and praying while running without a notebook or iPhone to capture all the brilliant stuff I am thinking… so, no proof.)

Why do I think I deserve all the credit for all the superstar stuff I do in my life but catch myself attempting to blame others when I’m stuck or struggling?

There isn’t one circumstance in my life today that I did not choose.

When I am low, no one is to blame but me.

When I feel the sting of regret, I chose not to participate.

When I feel like I am not being heard, it is me who is responsible for clarifying and clearly stating what I need.

When I feel bloated and sick, it’s because MY hands tore open the bag of Ruffles All Dressed potato chips and shoved all the chips in my mouth.

When I feel stagnant, or stuck, or bored, it is I who chooses how I spend my time.

When I am not happy with where I am at, it is up to me to choose a new route.

When my life is jammin’ and happy and purposeful
and I am on-fire,
I should pat myself on the back.
I chose to do what it takes to be here. 


No one is working me like a master puppeteer; no one has their hand up my backside guiding my every move with ulterior motive and unseen plan. No one else determines my outcome but me.

I can’t have have it only one way.
I can’t claim the stuff that works in my life as my own
and blame someone else for the stuff I like much less.

Until I fully accept my role in where I am in my life
– for better or for worse –
I waste my one precious life believing someone else has the power to choose for me.

I decide.
I got the power.




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