Loupe

“Brannan”, I think to myself as I look at my face in the mirror this morning, devoid of all color but for a slight greenish cast.  I’m not sick, just up before dawn and operating under a make-shift night light, diffused through the shower curtain in the hotel bathroom.  Have I been spending too much time on Instagram these days if I’m using the name of one of its filters to describe how I look?  Maybe, but it also makes me think about how we can’t help but color every aspect of life through the lens of ourselves.

Vacation should be a time to kick back and let loose, without a care in the world, right?  That’s what I think, so I’m puzzled this week to find that I have a surprisingly short fuse. Anymore I don’t spend a whole lot of time angry.  Most annoyances roll off my back; I’m so happy these days it just doesn’t seem worth it to get mad about much.

When I dig into what is lighting me up, it’s all about me.  That day Nate didn’t feel like leaving the hotel room no matter how much cajoling Nick and I could dish out?  Once he admitted he didn’t want to go outside for fear he’d make his sunburn worse, my dander was up:  It might have sounded from the tone of my voice that I was mad at him, but I am the mother who should have insisted on sunscreen and was powerless to relieve his pain. That night we couldn’t find a decent restaurant for dinner?  That was me, ill-prepared, without a map or a plan. There was no slack given for being in unfamiliar territory. Even my frustration at the difficulty in changing lanes right before the exit to the bridge, I know I need to be in the right lane to turn, why didn’t I get there sooner?  The list goes on.  Could I be any less forgiving to myself?

The good news is I’m the only person I’m mad at; this is in my control, and I’m able to change it.  But it seems so much worse, magnified by me. As luck would have it, the book I’ve chosen to read this week is “I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn’t)”, by Brene Brown.  She writes about how we’re not alone:  When we all zoom in on our own imperfections and inadequacy we shroud ourselves in shame and lash out at those we love, but when we zoom out and see the bigger picture, there’s power to be harnessed and a path for kindness to ourselves. I need to get on it.

My favorite Instagram filter, really, is “Lo-Fi”.  It makes everything brighter.

Found in a shop window on Orange Avenue in Coronado:  “For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.”  -- Audrey Hepburn