Perspective

I realise it’s all a matter of perspective.

I’m fine now, as I knew I would be the entire time I was bitching on Tuesday. I was fine yesterday (even as I spent the lovely sunny evening painting the main bedroom restful green). It was just Tuesday that everything seemed to go wrong, for both me and Kevin.

And I know that every moment I have the choice how to react to any given situation. And that my perspective changes reality.

Even as I chose to be grumpy, I know this and I know I’m doing it. And I figure it’s probably OK.

It’s like these rib cage exercises I’ve been doing to improve my singing voice. I have to expand my rib cage (without doing so by inhaling tons of air — try it) and keep it expanded while doing a number of exercises that make me feel silly. Like counting to eight 10 times. Or going ah-ah-AH-ah-ah without moving my jaw. I swear I look like a blow-up doll. Wide eyes and open mouth and expanded rib cage.

But while it’s good to spend an hour or two a day expanding my rib cage so that it can get there naturally and effortlessly (and without muscle pain) when I’m singing, I can’t maintain that for the entire day. Maybe 20 minutes at a time right now. With a couple of rests. And that’s OK.

Going through the effort of holding my ribs up and out and open while I’m vocalizing makes me appreciate being able to relax all those muscles and slouch. (Really, I’m trying not to slouch anymore. Just like I’m working on not getting REALLY grumpy or purposely upset.)

So I enjoyed my little bit of grumpiness. And I think I succeeded in not taking it out on anyone (you’d have to ask Kevin and my co-workers for confirmation of that) and just grumping to myself and my blog readers.

Now I’m back to choosing a better mood.