As is too often with these posts, I start by saying…it’s been too long since I have written anything new. I could blame work, school, kids, life, but really that would only be the icing on a cake too tall to tackle. The real problem is myself and even that is not enough to explain what has happened to me over the past few months. As is usually the case I am torn between being happy (complacent) with the life I have and wanting (needing) something more.
While I feel like I say it every year, this one, by far, has been the hardest one to navigate. Between friendships found, and lost, and found, the bumpy and panic inducing ride that is 11 years of marriage, losing and finding myself over and over again, and simply finding time to breathe through it all, I feel like I’ve been broken and put back together so many times that I wonder if all my pieces have survived.
I wonder, sometimes, if my biggest problem is more simple than I realize. That maybe my expectations for people and their behaviors are simply too high. Mostly, I feel that people will never meet mine and am forever doomed to sit and silence and ponder if it’s them or me. And yet, why ponder? I know it’s me. I simply assume everyone puts forth the same amount of everything I do: love, effort, understanding, movement, change. And when they don’t I am undoubtably dissapointed. “They” say expectation is the root of all heartache and this is something I wholeheartedly believe. But do we give up, accept this, and work to assimilate to the “others”; the ones that we feel are disappointing us? Decide to live in quiet complacency, knowing we could have it worse? That maybe if we just let things go, decide to give up what we feel we need, that we could live an almost happy life?
Or do we simply wait? Wait for the changes we are asking for. Wait for love we know we need and deserve. Wait for a life we know we are not going to simply exist in…but actually live in.
The conundrum exists: do you hope for the hurricane or simply enjoy the calm and still air of almost? Sometimes, the hurricane is worth it. It’s beautiful and perfect in its power and destruction, changing the landscape of your life forever, tearing down the extraneous walls you’ve built up to keep things out (or in). Other times it simply destroys everything, coming and going in meer moments, leaving an empty hole where something stable (maybe not profound or amazing), but stable used to be.
I’m watching people take these leaps and bounds in their lives and am becoming completely envious. Picking up and moving away. Finding a new and meaningful job. Leaving behind a mediocre life for a great one. For a while, it was hard to watch their journey because of the jealousy. What luck to get exactly what you want; what you’ve been hoping for. They made it looked so easy. But now, I know it is their bravery I covet. The sheer courage to say “This is what I want and I’m going to go for it.” They decided take some action instead of sitting around and talking, wondering, or even writing about it. Taking the risk in the hurricane, even if it destroys everything.
No matter how much back and forth I do in these situations, deep down, I know what it is that I want.
And it’s time to go and buy an umbrella.