This phrase shaped a lot of my late high school years and, as I sit here at reflect, all of my years post high school. I used to be so focused on myself and what I wanted to do that I started to think I was all that mattered. With this in mind, I knew I had to do what I had to do and so I carried out my responsibilities, but I hated every minute of it. Hated. It. I know differently now.
In my situation, being intentional means being present. It means putting my wants on the back burner to focus on the essential needs of those around me. And it’s not because it’s expected of me like it’s some kind of obligation, which is what I always thought. Rather, being intentional means doing the small things because the small things matter.
Specifically, it means painting miniature finger and toe nails because it’s Friday and we have two more hours until preschool. Being intentional means making pancakes when there’s no school and taking trips to the park just because we can. It means always having a Valentine. It means disinfecting scrapes and placing character band aids on scratches. Being intentional means making sure the house, my car, the area we are in is secure, because I will raise hell if not. It’s being understanding and patient, calming and reassuring, but not allowing anarchy to ensue - it’s knowing where to draw the line.
For me, being intentional means knowing, acknowledging the fact that I have my entire life to do what I want when I want. Being intentional means being part of someone’s life with the goal of leaving them a better person. It means knowing who deserves to be in my life and these are people who reciprocate my actions, not just pretend to do so.
You think you’re helping someone, but you find out later on down the road that they end up helping you far more than you did them.