Reflection

It has been a long time since I have felt as drained as I do right now. I am blaming the busy-ness and stress right now and really think I am coming up on the end of some of this. I am hoping so anyway. What I am seeing in my body right now is a result of that busy-ness and stress. I have a touch more water retention than normal and everything is achy. I am familiar with both of those things because that is just how my autoimmune issues respond to external factors. I am still focused and working hard to get through this little rough patch. And I have full faith it will continue to get better and better. Last Monday the concrete was poured for the new shed that is being delivered and set up on Tuesday this week. We have some more new furniture coming Wednesday. (We had a new couch and two loveseats delivered about a month ago which replaced the 30 year old (!!!) couch and loveseat we purchased when we were first married. The new recliners, couch and loveseat will be in the family room and we hope this is going to be the last of the furniture for a long time!) The Holiday Season is coming up and I am hosting Thanksgiving with my side of the family coming this year. I am very excited and ready for that but feel the stress. All that to say I am fine. I am on track and not letting stress get me off course. 

I picked up a key fob at the Brush School District Office on Wednesday to start walking indoors. With the time change I don’t want to walk in the dark and it is going to be getting colder and this is a great option to walk without all the hazards dark and snow and ice can bring. I climb essentially 2 flights of stairs to even get to the indoor walking track that encircles the High School Gymnasium. I told Wade that the stairs don’t even get factored into my walking workout but, honestly, I hate that part the most! Haha! I am not a fan of getting up any earlier than I do now – which doesn’t even qualify as early for most – so that leaves me with walking in the evening, when it’s dark. Now, anyone who knows me knows I am scared of the dark. It is a deep-seated fear that is actually paralyzing at times. Irrational? Maybe. Real? Definitely. As you can imagine I hustle a little more when I go from the car to the house or from the house to the car in the dark. The same is true in the parking lot when leaving the school to get to my car. The car I drive has mirrors that fold in sideways to face the doors when it is turned off and locked. Then when the car gets turned on the mirrors move back to the normal position. Well, it was dark, late, and scary . . . for me, anyway. I came out of the building with my keys out and my phone in hand. I jumped into the car and locked the door pretty quick-like to keep whatever was in the dark outside the car. Then I glanced into the back seat to make sure nothing was there to harm me. When I turned my head the mirrors were folding out to their normal position and I saw my own reflection in the mirror. At first, it didn’t register as being my reflection and I let out an audible “ya-hooo-hooo-eee” because it scared me. When I realized it was just my face I was seeing I felt pretty stupid, honestly. Not all reflections reveal something scary. Sometimes, they reveal exactly what we need to see. 

First, reflection brings hidden habits to the surface. So much daily life happens on autopilot. I move through my routines, react to situations, and repeat the same thoughts without ever realizing how much they influence my health, my weight, and even my spiritual well-being. Reflection works like hitting the “pause” button. It breaks the automatic cycle long enough for me to actually see what I’m doing and why. When I intentionally look back on my day or week, patterns begin to show themselves. I can catch the things that used to slip right past me . . . the way my energy dips at certain times, the stress triggers that send me straight to comfort food, the negative self-talk that sneaks in when I’m tired, or the tiny “I’ll just skip it today” choices that quietly shape the bigger picture. These moments may seem small on their own, but over time they add up in powerful ways. Reflection shines a light into those corners. It helps me recognize when I’m choosing convenience over growth, fear over courage, or discouragement over hope. And the beautiful part is this: awareness creates choice. Once I notice a habit, whether it’s emotional eating, avoiding movement, doubting yourself, or drifting spiritually, I now have the power to respond differently.

Second, reflection can help realign my effort with my goals. There’s nothing glamorous about walking and working out. But I do it anyway, not because it’s enjoyable, but because my goals matter more than the temporary discomfort. Reflection helps make that connection clear. It reminds me that I’m not just walking laps . . . I’m choosing a life that honors my health, my goals, and my long-term wellbeing. When we take time to reflect, we reconnect with our “why.” This is incredibly important, because the journey toward better health or spiritual growth isn’t always smooth. Some days I’m tired. Some days I’m scared. Some days I’m frustrated that progress feels slow or invisible. Reflection shifts my focus away from what’s difficult and brings me back to what’s meaningful. It reminds me that I walk because I value my health. It’s not about perfection. It’s about caring for the body God gave me and wanting to feel stronger, more capable, and more alive. I push through fear because I value growth and courage. Every time I face the darkness, climb the stairs, or challenge the negative voice in my head, I’m proving to myself that fear doesn’t get the final say. I show up for ME because I value my physical, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing. I’m investing in the kind of life I want to live . . . one grounded in joy, strength, peace, and purpose. Reflection helps me see the bigger picture. Instead of letting fear, fatigue, or convenience decide my next step, I re-center my decisions around what matters most. It’s like recalibrating a compass. When life pulls me off course, and it always will, reflection gently guides me back to my true north.

Last, reflection builds resilience by showing progress. That moment when my own reflection startled me, and then made me laugh, is such a perfect picture of how quickly perspective can change. What looked frightening at first turned out to be nothing more than me getting a glimpse of myself. Reflection works the same way. When I take time to look back, I often see things differently than I did in the moment. I realize that what felt small, inconvenient, or even embarrassing was actually a sign of growth. Looking back on that night, a few things came to mind that seem like small victories but add up to contribute to my overall progress. This entire week, I went walking even though I was tired and didn’t feel like it. That means discipline showed up when motivation didn’t and that I’m choosing long-term health over short-term comfort. I am proving to myself that I can face the dark even though it scares me. That means courage is growing, even if fear still whispers. These aren’t tiny things. They’re evidence that I’m becoming a stronger, more resilient version of myself. In health, weight loss, and spiritual life, I often overlook these wins because they don’t feel dramatic. I want big numbers on the scale, big bursts of energy, big spiritual breakthroughs. But resilience rarely grows in the big moments. It grows in the small, steady, faithful choices I make when no one is watching.

I am leaving you with this: You can let go of the habits that drain you. You can lose the automatic excuses, the fear-driven reactions, the patterns that make you feel stuck. Reflection doesn’t just change your habits. It changes your understanding of yourself and that’s where real transformation begins. Reflection shifts the internal narrative. It turns “I’m not doing enough” into “look at what I’m actually doing.” It replaces discouragement with perspective and builds confidence brick by brick. It reminds you that progress doesn’t always roar . . . sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it looks like lacing up your shoes again. Sometimes it looks like laughing at your own reflection instead of letting fear win. And sometimes it looks like continuing forward, even when the shadows feel big, because you’re stronger than you were yesterday and braver than you realized.