Here we are in November, already. It is so hard to believe. 2009 is nearly over, seems like it just began. Tonight will be random thoughts and reflections. I have been feeling quite nostalgic lately. I am not sure why, but I have felt it very important to take a trip (or trips) down memory lane. At the same time, I continue to suffer from this sense of un-settle-ment (is that even a word), or dissatisfaction, with my place in life right now. I yearn for the pleasures and luxuries that I feel I and my family deserve, a bigger house, a more beautiful house, nicer cars, clothing, you know, all of the things that are out there to tempt a nearly-35 year old. And when you see all of the people around you with the things, the houses, the lifestyle that you desire, it only makes the envy burn a little more.
I can get really pathetic with this, too, if I want. I pout, I wonder, "why not me?" I work hard, Ed works hard. We deserve more, we deserve better. And, just as soon as we think we are getting somewhere, WHACK...something sets us back. We have had to fork over more cash for unexpected expenses in the last two months than we have had to all year long. There it goes...out the door...I guess we will wait a little longer for the life we are waiting for.
So, that is one part of my current frame of mind. The other...completely opposite. I have been visiting places that have been a part of my personal history within the past month, and have experienced so much fulfillment as a result. My grandma has been in the hospital, and on my way to visit her in Albany, I drive through Farming. Right past the farm where my mom grew up. My grandparents lived there until I was 8. I remember playing in the yard, rolling down the hill, sitting on the propane tank, like it was yesterday. We had such fun there. I wanted, so badly to drive in and peek around. But, of course, that would just be weird and creepy. It is hard to let go of those days, those times. They are so vivid in my memory, but the places where those memories happened no longer belongs to me. It is kind of sad.
Last week, I spent the day in St. Paul, near St. Kates, where I went to college. I met some friends for lunch, and Rick and Jess for supper. No offense to the wonderful company I had that day, but my favorite part of that day was the two hours I had in between lunch with my friends and supper with my family. I spent time in a bookstore, thrift store, and antique store in Highland Park. Just me. In a bookstore (one of my favorite places to be). I had a coffee and there was funky music playing and I was perusing the fiction aisle. No hurry, no place to be. Just me, my coffee, the books, and the music. Oh, what a beautiful hour it was. It was "Robbie" personified. All of the things I enjoy in one space (books, funky music, coffee, and no time schedule). The perfect recipe for relaxation and "enjoying myself". I realized that I don't spend enough time with me. I don't do enough things that I enjoy. I don't go places that I would like to go.
Now, don't misunderstand me. I love my family, I love my kids, husband, and the crazy life we live. But there does need to be a place for me. I wouldn't want to live the life I had for that hour in the bookstore all day every day, but once in a while, it is nice. It is nice to be in a place that I, alone, have chosen, taking as much time as I like.
Then, today, I took the kids to church in Watkins, where I grew up. We tried going two weeks ago, but had the mass times wrong, so we were pulling into the parking lot as others were pulling out. But, that day, I walked the kids through the church so they could see the lovely windows and statues. Walking into that church was like walking into a time warp. There were people who immediately recognized me, and they hadn't changed. The church looked exactly like it always has (with the exception of the new entry on the side and the fact that the rectory has been torn down). So, today, we went to mass there. And again, so many familiar faces. It felt great to be home. Since dad moved out of our house, I haven't had a place that feels like home. Of course, my house feels like home, but there is a particular comfort to being in a place that has been a part of your whole, entire life. It was like walking into big, comfortable arms that embraced me. In that church, I was baptized, had my first Eucharist, spent 6 years at the Catholic School there, was confirmed, was married, had mom's funeral, had dad's wedding. So many of the events that formed me, shaped me into the person I am happened in that space. I found my spirituality there.
My soul has been stirring over the past month. I have been trying to find meaning in the challenges laid out before me, to find out why, despite our hard work and good intentions, that we still are reaching for some pinnacle, one that we may never reach. I have been feeling such comfort and happiness reflecting on the places I have been in my life. I ache, sometimes, for home, for the places and people who have been a part of my life. I wonder if that is directing me, am I being led to something or someplace that isn't part of my conscious plan? Or, am I being challenged, now, to find satisfaction, happiness, and "HOME" with what I have right here, right now. Consciously, I know the answer to this paradox. Of course I need to find satisfaction, pleasure, and happiness with the life I have. Because it could be taken away. Because there are so many people who have it so much worse than I do. Because I could lose a child or a husband, and learn the hard way that the things that really matter aren't found in a 4000 square-foot, professionally decorated home, or in a sweet ride, or in an outfit with matching shoes, earrings, and a necklace. It is here. It is sleeping in the room beneath me. It is in the kiss goodbye from my husband in the morning, the nose rub from Lilly while watching TV, the game of Clue with Cameron (where, he informed me, "I'm gonna whoop your butt!"), the secret kiss-throwing game I share with Alex. I get it on one level, hopefully on the level that counts. I just need to convince myself on another level, to quiet the voice inside that strives for more, and to challenge myself to immerse myself in the joy of a completely imperfect life (in 1900 square feet of boring :-)).
In re-reading this post, I think I am experiencing a journey of self-discovery. I am learning about who I am and what I stand for. I am facing the reality that the life I dreamed of (translated: the big house, nice cars, nice clothes), may not be the life I am destined for, and I'd better make peace with that sooner than later if I want to be truly happy. This must be the trip for one who is approaching her mid-30's. Self-reflection, self-assessment. Discovering the adjustments that need to be made now to plan for the next phase of my life. I love it and don't love it. It excites me and grieves me. But, accepting that it is part of the bigger picture, part of the plan is the challenge. I hope I'm up to it.
