Wednesday, March 5, 2008

contentment

Thought you folks might like to see some of the things the boys have been up to the past few days (like this impromptu dance party early yesterday AM) while I prattle on about myself for a bit.

It occurred to me today, as I stepped out in the 5 minutes of sunshine that came between bursts of torrential rains this morning, that I am feeling particularly nourished these days. Like I'm exactly where I want to be, and exactly who I want to be. It's a feeling that's been creeping up on me, so stealthy that I hadn't realized it was here until just this moment, even though I can say for sure that it didn't arrive just today.

(The boys collaborating on a woodworking project, which was a mix between creation and pretend play, Zoo Boy and his Pliers trying to swoop in and steal wooden pegs, which J and his Hammer defended at all cost.)

I spent most of the 90s in a pit of cynicism that I'd dug for myself. I'm not sure where it came from. Perhaps having spent the entire 80s steeped in idealism, it was just a natural backlash effect. It's not that my life wasn't good -- it was good. It was really good. But it wasn't what I'd assumed it would be. I'd spent my entire life dreaming and planning out what my future would be, and even though that dream continued to evolve over time, I think it was a bit of a shock that it wasn't quite what I'd envisioned. So I became cynical of what life was, and dreamed even harder about the future, planned even more extensively, for that day when life would be more than good, when it would be GRANDE.

(J, the "man fairy", as he labeled himself as he donned these large "wings". "Do you know that fairies can be men too?" he asked me. Of course I do, I replied.)

J's birth changed a lot of things for me. It changed my world view. It changed my personal view, of who I am, of who I wanted to be. It changed my priorities. It changed what I wanted for the future. Now I was dreaming for someone else. Slowly the cynicism melted away. Bit by bit, it was replaced with love and acceptance. But still I dreamed of a better tomorrow. For him, for me, for our family.

(Building with their rally dominoes set.)

In the couple of years since I've turned 40, I've felt a shift inside of me. A sense of maturity, of acceptance of myself and everyone, everything, around me. I wasn't sure what it meant in the bigger picture of things, but I knew it was a good thing. It wasn't until today, stepping out in the brief sunshine that promised the return of spring, that I realized what it really was. Contentment. I've arrived at the place I've been moving towards my entire life. I'm living my dream. It's not the dream of my youth, or of my idealistic 80s, or of my cynical 90s. It's the dream of a connected, nourished life. Not a perfect life (if there even is such a thing), but of being truly content with where I am right now, who I am right now, being in and cherishing this moment in time.

It's the dream of not needing to dream of something better, because this, right here, is GRANDE.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

that is so lovely! i'm happy for you, my friend!