I am a quick waker-uper. My dogs demand it. I'm out of bed and out the door within a few minutes. My creativity and my disposition seem to be at their bests in the morning.

Even though I move quickly at that time of the day, I also am a bit of a lingerer.

I peruse Facebook and Twitter. I Instagram and peek into the lives of those in my feeds, most of whom I have at least some sort of personal relationship. I'm often thankful I didn't get involved in social media until well into my late 40s. My teenage and young adult life and subsequent thoughts paraded about for all to see could've been just too much for me to have recovered from once I regained my senses, as I was a bit of an odd young person-but, that's another story for another time, as really embarrassing stories often seem to be... Even as the wise and mature woman that sits and types these words (ha!), I have really blown it publicly on many occasions. And yet, the sun rose in the morning, the birds sang their same cheery songs, and the earth didn't open up and swallow me whole...

I think I've always been a bit afraid of that. The whole "earth opening up and swallowing me whole" thing. It kept me paralyzed in my boots for way more than I'd care to admit. The very thought of doing something stupid and having everyone see?! The fact that EVERYONE was watching (as if they would have been)?! The idea that I'd do something terrible and people wouldn't like me anymore, because, after all, EVERYONE likes me?! ...That's a whole lot of pressure for someone to put on someone, but more than just the pressure, that's a whole lot of thinking about Me, Myself and I, and that's where the problem often lies...

Once, while in the throws of the public panic that comes with considering one's self too much (and by "one's self" I mean MYself...), my very wise husband said, "You don't REALLY think EVERYONE likes you, do you?", to which I replied "Yes, I do!". Then I laughed at both the honesty and the ridiculousness of my reply. It was a life-changing moment. To be driven to be liked? To be afraid of not being liked? I hadn't realized how much that thought/fear/hope had kept me from being effective and stopped me from doing what I was placed upon the Earth to do...

We hear that all the time. You are unique. You are one-of-a-kind. But it's true.

Psalm 139:14, I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.

We sang songs as children, "Hide it under a bushel? No! I'm gonna let it shine", and yet that's the very thing we spent the next few years doing, hiding ourselves...

As I was going through my Facebook news feed this morning, I was moved by the posts of my friends, loved ones and heroes. The joys, the pains, the hurts, the triumphs, the random thoughts and scenes that we all memorialize by posting to our Facebook pages are windows into our lives. They may be fleeting glimpses or they may be feelings that we shake our heads over later, wondering why we said something so silly. But by the same token, it's an honor that we would let others in to that part of us. Wrong, silly, insignificant or trivial moments make up the same people who are also wise and clever world-changers.

I won't forget that.

So, I'm thankful for photos of dogs sleeping or the breakfast you had this morning or the beautiful sunset that I would've missed if you hadn't posted that pic. I'm glad you think I'd be interested in your favorite team's victory. I'm grateful that we know each other so well that you're not afraid to admit that you made a mistake and that by admitting that, you could save me from making it too. I'm thankful that we are connected and that we can be the voice in each other's head.

Maybe, armed with this revelation, I wish my 13 year-old self would've had a Facebook page. Probably I would've posted my name as Kim "Perry" Grimes and the dramas of my pretend love life would have been splattered about with the names of certain celebrities like Larry Csonka, Tommy Smothers and Donny Osmond, and the photos would have been of my guinea pig and gerbil, Berlioz and Jeremy. Would that have been so bad? So terrible? Yikes, on second thought, thank you, Mark Zuckerberg for holding off for a few years...

I have a great dislike for the word Busy. Not for the word itself, but rather, how the word is often used. ...It's longed for. It's worn like a badge. It makes a home unpleasant. It makes children have to entertain themselves. And it doesn't make time for rest.

Aging gives you a certain perspective. It's one of the perks of getting older, I believe. If you ask me, I'll probably have some answers for you. In fact, I'm sure I would... I've tried to listen to the input from people who have been around for awhile. It's like a cheat-sheet. And I want others to "cheat" from what I've done. Learn from what I've done wrong. Learn from what I've done right... But the perspective that comes with age can also be one of the downfalls. I'm frustrated when I'm not asked. Or when what I say goes unheeded by those I care about. Goodness. It seems lately I spend a lot of time being frustrated, but that's a different story for a different time...

When I was younger, I loved being Busy. I felt that it gave me a sense of purpose. Like, somehow, if I wasn't Busy, I wasn't valuable... But looking back, I see some of the things I missed, things I rushed through or glanced over. I don't wanna be like that ever again... Right now, I relish in walking my dogs. I like seeing things through the eyes of my iPhone camera. Instagram was made for my dog walks. Stopping to smell the wisteria in bloom fills my senses and spurs my creativity. I like spending evenings with my husband, watching Seinfeld reruns on TBS. Yesterday, I taught my oldest GrandBoy about looking for pictures in the clouds. For about 60 seconds. He's three. I like reading good children's literature. I like laughing with some of my favorite comedians on Pandora.

There are pulls on my time, sometimes more than I'm comfortable with. I get overwhelmed at them every so often. And I don't like that feeling. It reminds me of my earlier days and ways. I'll snap at my husband, or cry because of so-much-to-do. That sort of situation is a weakness of mine. At the very least, Too Busy is not my Happy Place.

So, as much as is within my power, I think I'll choose to take it as slow as I can. To take things one at a time. And when I do have lots to do, I'll just take busy without the capital B...

I'm back. I'm opinionated. And I'm having a TIME figuring out the posting process! These are busy days. Days full of change. Some good, some not that great. Some happy, some not that great. At any rate, I welcome change. My mother-in-law always said, concerning birthdays, to "consider the alternative"... Change is that way. The alternative is to stay the same. While everyone else changes, grows and moves on. So, I embrace change. I look forward to the perspective I'll have on the other side. And that perspective is what I plan to blog about. Cause, if I can do it...