Day 188: This Is a New Day. I Am a New Me.

It seems that the world as a whole is changing so quickly these days.

Or maybe I'm seeing it more clearly because I'm choosing to make so many changes in my own life.

Change is one of those words that can create fear, and for some people, even panic. Shifts feel gentler, smaller, more possible.

And most change really does happen that way, through small shifts we don't fully recognize until we look back.

In spending more time at the motorhome, even the dogs lives are changing.

Their whole routine is affected.

Our space is different and I watch them navigate their new surroundings. finding their new nap spots. Who gets to claim what space. Who sits next to me on the sofa, on which side.

New sleeping arrangements.

My Yorkie has a great internal clock and he tells me when it's time to feed them. Because nothing is the same here.

They are navigating change like we do.

Watching them make shifts in their behavior to adjust to being here is enlightening to watch.

They don't sit around analyzing what this means for their identity.

They don't make a 5 year plan for becoming motorhome dogs.

They just keep noticing.

This is where the food is now.

This is where I sleep now.

This is where I feel safe now

This is where mommy sits now.

And little by little, their nervous systems start mapping a new life.

Today's affirmation from Louise Hay is, "This is a new day. I am a new me."

That is a definitive statement.

No guessing, no debate. Each day I am a new person.

Not because I woke up with a completely different personality.

Not because everything healed overnight.

Because yesterday moved through me.

Yesterday taught me something, asked something of me, showed me things about myself.

I stopped to think about who I was yesterday. The questions I had, the clarity I found. The things I experienced differently. What sent my emotions up or down throughout the day.

Yes, I am a different person because of what I learned from my experiences yesterday.

Maybe in small ways, but yes, different.

And then I thought back to Saturday night when I was awakened by a very large cow outside my door, 4 times!

Cows roam in this part of Mexico. They roam in town, they roam the beach. They lay under the palapas on the beach and enjoy their day.

But a middle of the night visit was unexpected and little jarring.

I grabbed my phone, turned on the flashlight, opened the door, and he barely had room to move because he was wedged between the motorhome and my containers he had taken the covers off and was rummaging through.

There were wine glasses on the ground that he had delicately placed there without breaking them.

I yelled at him until he started to slowly walk away.

He came back 3 more times.

After each visit I put heavier things on the containers, and tried my best to barricade them with other things that were outside.

They were too heavy for me to bring in by myself.

After I had blocked his way from the front after his third visit, he went over to the next road and came in from the back.

When I pushed the door open that time, directly into his side, he had such a narrow space, he had to back out.

I'm sure it would have made a very entertaining video.

But it only lives in my memories, and I think this experience will stick with me.

Was I a new person when I woke up the next morning?

Maybe more dramatically than most days, and with less sleep.

I was changed in my ability to tackle unexpected circumstances from a deep sleep.

I learned I'm not afraid to defend my home from very large unpredictable animals. This was my first up close and personal experience with a cow.

I had to think on my feet, in the dark looking around at what was still outside that I could use to protect my containers from his next attempt.

There were a lot of lessons there.

Not dramatic life lessons in the way we usually think of them.

More like small realizations.

I can wake up quickly when I need to.

I can handle more than I think.

I can be startled and still respond.

I can be tired and still figure things out.

I can protect my space.

And apparently, I can negotiate with a cow at two in the morning.

And the next morning I was still asking myself, did that really happen, 4 times?

Most days, unless you're looking for those tiny shifts and little lessons, you won't be aware that you are in fact, a new you.

We don't notice that we handled something differently.

We don't notice that something that would have overwhelmed us before only wobbled us this time.

We don't notice that our intuition spoke a little more clearly.

Or that our nervous system recovered a little faster.

Or that we trusted ourselves one small moment sooner than we used to.

But those things matter. Those are the quiet ways we become new.

I would encourage you to do a little check in when you wake up and ask yourself what shifted in you from the day before.

Today's Gentle Practice

When you wake up tomorrow morning, before you move too quickly into the day, pause for a moment.

Ask yourself:

"What shifted in me yesterday?"

Not what did I accomplish.

Not what did I get done.

Not what still needs to be fixed.

Just:

"What shifted?"

Let yourself see the small evidence that life is moving through you and reshaping you.

Every day may not bring a dramatic change, but every day gives us something. A lesson. A mirror. A moment of clarity.

It all contributes to a chance to become a little more self-led than we were the day before.

Louise Hay was right. This is a new day.

And in some quiet, real way, you are a new you.

With you,

Lynn