On Believing Your Blessings

On Believing Your Blessings

When something good happens
A phrase I catch myself
Uttering, repeating, living
Over and over... is
"I can't believe it."

I use this phrase when I look at my daughters.
I say to them, "I can't believe you're real."
"I can't believe you're mine."

And the truth is, I can't.

Because blessings feel out of reach.
Not real.
Not mine.

When these good things come
I catch myself
Holding my breath
Anxiously waiting
For it to go wrong
For them to vanish
Like a mirage that was never really
Real, to begin with.

I don't feel this way about my worries.
They are real.
They are so real, in fact, that
At night they enter the room
And lay beside me
As real as the pillow under my head.

My fears, anxiety, pain, doubt, guilt
These are the things I never question.
I never say,
"I can't believe you're real."
"I can't believe you're mine."
i own them and wear them like a uniform.

But no more.
Starting today, I will believe my blessings
Instead of my fears.
I will look at my daughters and say
"You are real. You are mine."

And when my anxiety tries to visit this evening
I will say,
"I don't believe you're real."
"I don't believe you're mine."