July in Two Words (So What?)

On this first day of August, I’ve been looking back over the last month and realizing that a major part of my doing-my-best-to-shrug-off-all-the-stuff-I-feel-powerless-about-and-thus-resent strategy in July was to repeat a simple phrase to myself, usually, but not always (being the awkward person I am), in my head.

I’ve grown to appreciate the power of these words—so what—to give me a reality check. Short and sweet, inquisitive rather than “defiant woman-child” when properly applied and delivered, they’ve become a handy prompt, a reminder I often need in order to reexamine my priorities and look at things from a different angle.

As in, July wasn’t perfect, and I had to postpone plans that I’d been excited about, but so what? Nothing, after all, is perfect in this slow trudge toward death that we like to call life (#optimism?), and, blips or no blips, I had lots of good times, too.

Site of many reflections leading me to mutter “so what?” to myself.
The site of many “so what” reflections last month.

As in, I’ve been managing some unpleasant health stuff, but so what? What truly matters is that I’m managing that health stuff. The alternative would be ignoring it and/or wallowing. Might as well be proud of how I’m trying to take charge of my medical challenges.

As in, I didn’t achieve all the arbitrary July goals I set for myself, but so what? See above, plus I’m working on achieving balance, and self-care trumps giving in to my weird and frequently self-destructive “quirks.”

Here’s the thing, friends. The more I dwell on what I wish I could change about July, or on what I wish I could change moving forward, the less I’m able to focus on what I was able to do, on what I have, and on what I can continue to accomplish. So sure, this acceptance kick I seem to be on might be getting a little obnoxious, but—wait for it—SO WHAT?

So deal with it. Better yet, I’ll make you a deal. If you accept my acceptance and how it’s helping me make my life full even as I face obstacles that aren’t going away anytime soon, I’ll commit to writing my next post about something other than acceptance.

I can’t promise, though, that it won’t be ten paragraphs devoted solely to ice cream.


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