I’ve been really struggling with my blog-dentity lately. Let me rephrase- I’ve been really struggling with E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G lately. Who ever said living our dreams is like walking on clouds and drinking rainbows? That guy, and I am sure it was a guy, clearly had a drug problem and no children. I’ve been a fool for wishing and hoping for that “perfect” one-size-fits-it- all- definition for life. Call me crae crae, I want it all and a drizzle of truffle butter. I want the hot, juicy romance, the happy, well-adjusted, extremely loved, arts and crafts filled children, the passionate dream job, the deep, intimate soul-friendships, the buzzing social life, the charismatic, amazing self-fulfilled self, the loving family relationships, the Audrey Hepburn wardrobe, the 18th century cottage in the “cool” part of town, the clean car with no cheerios plastered on the seats or wafts of spoiled milk lingering in the air, the hot 6-pack bod, the shiny red painted toes, the glistening white teeth, the organic food-filled fridge, the lemonade on the porch on a hot summer evening, the Mother Theresa warm heart covered with Pam Anderson boobs…Did I mention, the painted toes?
Yes, I strive to have my life be blissful and romantic 99.9% of the time. Yet, I have discovered recently that being content with an evolving partnership, with extremely loved children that are just extremely loved, with a job that I’m passionate about, with friendships that offer what they offer, with family relationships that are at times close and connected and other times distant and challenging, with the wardrobe that is mish-mashed and slightly 90′s, with the cool house nestled in the suburbs in the not-so-cool-part-of-town, with a car that has gas in it’s tank, a bruised bumper and a mess of cereal enmeshed in the carpet, yet it still runs, with the bod that has some stretch marks, with the toes that get painted on special occasions, with the fridge that is filled with food, spilled milk, and something sticky, with the me that does my best to enjoy what I have and yet still strive towards extraordinary bliss, with the self that does it’s darnedest to accept the things it cannot change, with the breath into the moments that feel unbearable while lavishing in the ones that flow with ease and delight, and with the trust in the process just as it is.
No, my life hasn’t been filled with fancy food, fancy meals out, or fancy time to ponder about delicious in a edible sense. It has been filled with re-defining and accepting “what is” with the greatest grace within me. I have been seeking and yearning to savor the moment, “eating my heart out” in a passionate sense, and digesting gratitude as much as possible. I guess even “Delicious” can be redefined.