mama lion roars

Do you ever feel like you are too blessed? That your life is flowing along too well?

I feel like this right now. And it makes me uncomfortable.

After enduring years where it seemed like bliss was something that was only attainable in other people’s lives, I became accustomed to the curve balls, to the other shoe always dropping. There’s almost something comforting in the chaos … there’s a certainty that comes with uncertainty. You can’t be knocked down if you’re already lying on the floor.

So here I am, thriving in the land of joy and happiness and reveling in every second, but still, ever so slightly, checking over my shoulder, looking for that Mack truck to come barreling down the highway.

I’m blessed. I’m blissed out. I have a beautiful life. And I can’t completely relax. Maybe it’s that mama lion gene roaring inside me, that “thing” that makes the claws come out and forces me to want to protect my den of serenity with a ferocity that would scare even the most deadly of adversaries.

In the light of other alternatives (paranoia? insanity? PMS? ), I think I’ll go with that. I am mama, hear me roar.