Just finished my daily Yoga session. Feeling kind of spacey, no-words just a little pictorial meditation.
Photo borrowed from myhomeideas.com
So here we are living, dreaming and sharing our experiences with one another. We all have our ups and downs in this quest for a perfect life. Sometimes we know what we want, sometimes we can fill in that blank- if… but sometimes it’s not so clear, you could say, it’s kind of a gray area.
We could say things like- my life would be perfect if…
I had enough money to live it the way I wanted to,
if I had an awesome body, healthy and beautiful, that will never grow old,
if I had a great job, that I loved,
If I had the time to do the things I wanted to do and had the time to spend it with the people I wanted to be with instead of those who just happen to be in the same place at the same time.
Yesterday while driving home from work I listened to an interview with Meaghan Daun the author of “My life would be perfect if I lived in that house”. It made me think about how I might complete the sentence- my life would be perfect if… but I really couldn’t come up with a viable option or the perfect line and then I thought… what is perfect and is that really what I want? hmmm…
The following is an excerpt of this book… I like it!
Yesterday, a piece of my house came off in my hands. I don’t mean that metaphorically. I banged the garbage can against an outside wall, and a piece of stucco about the size of a sheet of paper came ever so slightly loose. When I touched it, it fell gently into my palm. It was as if the house were giving me a lock of its hair, or perhaps coughing up phlegm. I was concerned, but it also happened that I was really busy that day. I just couldn’t get into it with the stucco, not right then anyway. Also, I was coming up on my five-year anniversary of owning the house, and if there’s anything I’ve learned in five years, it’s this: if a piece of your house falls off and you don’t know what to do with it, throwing it in the trash and forgetting about it is a perfectly viable option. And it so happened that the trash can was right there. Once upon a time I would have made a beeline to the yellow pages to look up “stucco replacement,” but I’ve come a long way since then.
So has the house. I bought it in 2004, and as I write this, it’s supposedly worth $100,000 less than what I paid for it. By the time you read this, it will probably be worth even less than that. I try not to care because if I cared too much, or even thought about it too much, I’d go insane. I’ve spent enough time here being insane, believe me. I was insane when I bought the place, and I went even more insane afterward. Then again, the whole world was high a few years ago. The whole world, or at least the whole country, was buying real estate and melting it down to liquid form and then injecting it into veins. For my part, it’s tempting to say I succumbed to peer pressure, but it was really much more complicated than that. There is no object of desire quite like a house. Few things in this world are capable of eliciting such urgent, even painful, yearning. Few sentiments are at once as honest and as absurd as the one that moves us to declare: “Life would be perfect if I lived in that house.”
I’m writing this book in homage to that sentiment, which is to say I’m telling the story of a very imperfect life lived among very imperfect houses.
I, too, have had fantasies about the perfect house- a quaint little cottage surrounded by a garden of roses and other aromatic bloomers, the creamy white kitchen is old but still very functional, the wood floors creak with every step I take, but the windows open up to a panoramic view of the sea. The smell of sea-spray and romantic flowers fills my breath as the breeze gently graces my cheek like the touch of a feather and this house, this view, this experience makes my life seem,,, well… perfect!
My eyes are closed and my head is laying back in my chair, I can feel it- I’m there and it’s perfect…
Do you ever stop to think about how small your focus is and how at times you live in a tiny bubble, you only see what is important to you at that very moment. Our thoughts are immediate and at the center of everything. It’s hard to imagine that our issues are just a passing thought to others. I sometimes forget that the feature playing, center stage in my life, may not be so important to others. Everyone has there very own feature presentation playing on a unique stage and all at the same time.
It’s important to share your life/stage with others while celebrating their individual focus/ issues as well. Our lives are running simultaneously, sometimes our roles collide and intertwine with friends ,family and co-workers but most often we remain totally separate and alone.
I had a conversation with a co-worker yesterday about a friend of theirs who gets fixated on things in her life and can’t see anything or anyone else around her, she doesn’t realize that her issues are not center stage or important to everyone. This conversation made me think about a girl I know who may at times be guilty of same but she’s working on it.
My trunk show went well. I admit that I expected so much more but then I always do. I am trying to learn to enjoy each moment and every little triumph. I want to learn to accept and appreciate the little things and to respect each and every center stage even if my place/role is only in the audience/background.
I’m so glad you are a part of my stage and I yours.
Every morning I wrap my fingers around a toasty cup of coffee and step outside to watch the day begin. I ponder the mist rising above the sleepy woodland, the leaves rotting on the forest floor, the air thick and damp allowing a generous coat of green moss to prosper.
This is the moment I fall in love with the day, silent, hopeful and posed with the unknown. With the steam rising from my cup, I give thanks for my life and everyone in it. I close my eyes and breathe in the heavy air. I’m thoughtful, thankful and ready for the day to begin.
I give thanks for my life and everyone in it…
Happy Thanksgiving, my friends
Sometimes you can’t ask for more. This was the scene outside my windshield saturday evening as I was driving home. It was just beautiful and so surreal. It made me feel thankful for everything in my life. No things aren’t perfect, far from it, but I am blessed to have what I have and that includes all of you. Although, I don’t like the cold and I still dream of living in a little cottage on the beach, you can’t beat the wildlife, turkeys, deer, raccoon, blue heron, etc, livng just beyound my window or the gorgeous midwestern landscape surrounding me. Sometimes I can’t believe that I live right in the middle of it all. Now go out and enjoy your day- every tiny moment of it!
( I made this collage in a writing journal a while back. It seemed fitting for today’s post)
I applied to a handful of companies where I could see myself working and now I’m waiting, mulling over and wondering what will be. I feel as though I’m in a sort of holding pattern, floating directly above all decisions, all destinations, just waiting for something to happen. I’m at a fork in the road with no clear direction. Here I sit waiting for a sign before I proceed down the road of life. A part of me says move on don’t wait for an answer and then another voice speaks up to say, be patient- take your time. How long should I wait for that tolerable job to come calling before I submit to another stint of cubicle incarceration. I just can’t see myself back in a desk job but if I’m too picky I may never snag that second job. Hmmmm, a little help here.
I’m looking for the perfect job or maybe just a few words of wisdom….anyone?
Do you ever feel like others can see right through you and know what you’re thinking?
Just when I’m savoring a problem, I realize that someone has an eye on me and without a word or gesture uncovers my thoughts-suddenly I’m naked with no place to hide. That’s when the rhythm or flow of free wil becomes disrupted and I question my logic, my wisdom, the plan.
Fall has come with a vengeance my toes are cold and the wind is howling outside my window. I’m desperately trying to get back in the rhythm, back to work and just be myself.
“be patient Junie, your best work comes in moments of grace”
No matter where you are or how you feel life keeps rolling. There is no pause button or do-over in this game just a fast paced escalator moving along the path to a destination beyond. The seasons change without warning and little lines show up in unexpected places, children grow and people move on. Things look simple on the surface but feel so very complicated underneath.
There are moments in my life that I would like to put aside and preserve. I’d wrap them up sucurely, place them carefully in a sturdy box and then I’d place this box in a secret place known only to me. The moment I felt as though the world was spinning too fast and I needed a chance to savor my life, I would take out that tiny box, unwrap my special moment and savor away. Some days all I want is a slow dance with the people I love most.
You may be thinking this sounds familiar, kind of like a memory and I guess you would be right except that a memory seems so lifeless and quiet. I want the full effect, the noise, the smell, the movement- everything. Perhaps I could work on my imagination just a bit and relive old memories with a little more gusto.
My sweet friend Shell bestowed me with a couple special awards this week- thank you my day dreaming friend. I shall pass them on very soon but today seemed like a good day to look out my window and ramble about the things that are present this very moment. I’m grateful for many things, including you!
Pass the love cup, please.
New tires crunched along the gravel path until her bike came to a stop in front of the beautiful garden that Mr. Smith had professionally designed last spring. There is no way he’d notice a the missing flower or two should she decide to snip a few and how could he possibly deny a bouquet to the woman who had been his lover the year before. Just as she got up the nerve to lay down her bike and enter the wrought iron gate before her, a loud rumble over-head forced her eyes to look up into the grey skies. It wouldn’t be long before that thunder cloud unleashed and made it nearly impossible for her to make it back home. She smiled the kind of tight-lipped grin that said she was up to something. Her leg swung over the bar and her feet maneuvered the peddles back to the paved road that lead to her home. Her speed made it look as though she was determined to make it back before the storm but her mind was simply spell bound.
It’s a rainy Wednesday morning and I felt the itch to do a little story telling. I wish I could spend a little more time here with you today but life gets in the way sometimes.
Some days beg for a little eccentric charm and this crazy outfit is perfect.
Wouldn’t you agree? Young and cute= looking perfect in any outfit. He hee