It's been awhile since I've felt attractive due to my ever expanding collections of various sweat pants. The application of make up has become even more daunting as I start to notice the very first signs of aging while approaching 27. Yes, that's right....I have reached my late twenties.
The twenties don't appear like what I thought MY late twenties would look like. I suppose I always assumed I'd be married by now, traveling the world with my patient, loving, strong, confident, poetic, athletic, charming, sensitive, kind, sexy, hardworking, handsome, rugged, adventurous, spontaneous, sensible, financially secure yet willing to be poor, spiritual, artsy, tall, stable, mysterious, good listening, attentive husband. Together, we would single handily save small island clusters from poverty.... making Oscar winning documentaries and writing love letters to each other. Upon completion of these endeavors, we would begin construction on our summer home for all of our 5 children to grow up in, listening to Jazz and living the "simple life".
But, as luck would have it (shockingly) I have learned that life doesn't always turn out as you would have planned. Instead I find myself changing up to 20 diapers a day working as a nanny and extremely part time office assistant/greeting card designer. In addition, I am UN-married...and potentially more single than I would have hoped.
Thus, I've laid in bed for the last few nights feeling a little sad at a life less lived than is healthy. I've felt disappointed in myself.
However, the beloved polka dot blouse hath saved me from such a fate. A future filled with many sleepless nights overflowing with "shoulda coulda wouldas" weaving in and out forming a dark tapestry of despair that would eventually smother me....hath been put out with a quickness like the flickering of a candle. (what a lovely dramatic sentence... a run on, I believe. My 8th grade english teacher told me I had the worst habit of run on sentences she'd ever seen. Sorry Ms. Cox)
At approximately 8:15pm on Friday, February 5, 2010 I looked in the mirror and felt a very simple joy in each and every dot on that blouse. I felt at ease in it's delicate fabric, and for the first time in a very long time....felt sincerely happy.
If a little blouse (which I purchased on sale, might I add) can drudge up such alien feelings in my heart, I wonder what a life lived with gratitude and wonder could bring? Perhaps a richness I have yet to experience. A life rooted in love, contentment and dare I say....worship?
On Monday morning, February 8th at around 10am I will turn 27. I will go to work like usual. I will no doubt be thrown up on and change a record amount of diapers during my 12 hour shift. I will be wearing sweat pants and dreaming up little card ideas as I fold other peoples clothing. Humming to myself I will wash dishes, mop the kitchen and pick up an endless amount of toys. Strangely, I actually feel okay with that.
And just maybe, learning that contentment paired with even harder work, will finally lead me towards some of those other dreams I've had put away in boxes for so long.
In the meantime, I'd like to point out that the Oscars are overrated and too long :) Especially the Red Carpet Pre-show.
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1 comment:
Your blouse blog has inspired me. For the record...You are an amazing, beautiful, creative and very witty woman and I envy and respect you.
Love, Katie
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