I’m Here for It. I’m Here for it All!

I’m Here for It. I’m Here for It All!

I made this phrase part of my ninety-day goal this quarter, so I’ve been thinking about it every day and trying to live from it. It’s possible I’ve found my life phrase.

In order to make it more effective, I don’t allow myself to say it like Susan in Miracle on 34th Street. It’s not something I mumble, trying to make myself believe. I channel my inner Rudy Ruettiger from Rudy.
I say it like I mean it. He was on the sidelines, undersized but undeterred, and we hear, “Put me in, Coach,” and then I add, “I’m here for it all.” It’s my way of reminding myself that I’m not just here for the pretty part. I’m here for the whole thing. I’m here for the process, the watering, the weeding, the muddy-pawed dogs, the too many bills, and the deadheading of flowers.

Let me explain…

In April, I bought the most beautiful hanging baskets from a lovely local nursery. It felt like Christmas in April. They were stunning — begonias and petunias spilling over the sides of their baskets… in all the colors of joy.

Friends, they are still alive.

It’s July! This might be a personal record for me. Usually, bringing home hanging baskets means their life will be very short. It’s not personal, but they always seem to remind me that I don’t have a green thumb. This year was different. I was here for it. I watered them and enjoyed quiet moments of admiring their colors. It became a small respite from my daily to-do list. I even started deadheading them. They liked that and it showed. I was tending them, and in return, they tended me.

Choosing to be here for it — whatever it is — has rippled into everything else.

When my brother brings his dog over and he runs laps in the backyard with my dog like it’s the Indy 500, and it just happens to be raining, and my dog is trying to teach him how to stick his head in the rush of water from the downspout…it means I’m about to be intimately acquainted with many very muddy paws...and pawprints.

But I’ve already decided: I’m here for it. That pup is so glad to see me, so glad to see my dog, and so glad for the rain.  I want in on that joy and energy. Saying “I’m here for it” isn’t some fake-it-till-you-make-it mantra for me. It’s a grounded decision. I want the joy of the dogs playing. And the muddy paws? They come with the territory. I’m not going to resent them or the work required to clean them up. They are part of the package of the work and the tending that come with everyday joy.

You can use this phrase with the mundane stuff, like paying the bills. Some weeks, there are more than we’d like. But if I sit down, shift things around, and remind myself I’m here for both the abundance and the tight weeks, something shifts. I go from panic to problem-solving and from dread to presence. It can be your superpower, if you let it.

I’m not saying we won’t get tired or overwhelmed. I want us to remember we can choose to stay in the moment. not just the shiny ones, but the muddy, messy, unfiltered ones too.

Maybe try it this week. Just once.

The next time you’re wiping muddy paws, paying bills, or watering your metaphorical begonias, whisper it:
“I’m here for it.” Better yet, do your best Rudy imitation and shout it like you mean it:
“Put me in, Coach. I’m here for it.”

Say yes to the beauty.
Say yes to the mess.

We need them both.

I’ll be cheering you on — while I deadhead the flowers and wipe all the paws.