It’s been a stormy week, and I’m not just talking about the weather out here in typically beautiful LaLa Land. With another year about to close I’ve been doing that reassessing thing again. Where is my career going? Where are my creative aspirations headed? What is going on with my marriage? Do I have a realistic five year plan? It doesn’t help we have to move, and that I’m still not pregnant. Why is it that right now I would be so much more assured about everything if I had a house I could call a home and a baby on the way? It’s probably “the age” thing, and the fact that everyone else around me seems to be doing those things; babies, new jobs, buying houses. I don’t want to say things aren’t coming together for me at all, because they are. Like a new client that should be some stable income for a couple of years, and an old client that still loves me enough to keep throwing work my way, and my books are actually selling more now than ever before, and I’m working on a new book project that I’m both scared and excited about because it’s kind of new territory for me.
It’s probably the argument we had last night, or the tension since Monday, over the whole fantasizing-about-somebody-else-while-having-sex-with-your-partner thing. That was an interesting debate. Actually more interesting on my Facebook feed. For us, it was just another stone to throw, in a comical kind of way of course, but still, I know it made both of us wonder, is this really how it’s supposed to be? Why can’t it be more like it was in the beginning, when even the thought of someone else seemed completely ludicrous? And then last night. Why is it so wrong for me to want to have everything figured out before the end of the year? I’m tired of waking up January 1st of whatever New Year and feeling like it’s not the start of something new. Is it so wrong for me to want to know that we’re driven enough to get real jobs so that we can get a real house, and that we’re healthy and genetically compatible enough to have kids?
I’m not a patient person. I never have been. I admit this as a weakness of mine. I wish I could be one of these people that could always live in the moment; enjoy everything as it is right now and not think about the next step. I know it’s a better way to be because when I consciously make the effort to be this way, it feels better. Of course it also feels like more effort, but there is that Zen; that peace of mind in not caring about the unknown and just being grateful for everything that is around me right here, right now, because tomorrow it will be gone or altered in some way, which may not be better or worse…just different. I know I have a lot to be grateful for, regardless of everything else that I want and don’t have at this exact moment.
I remember when he and I first got together. I had nothing to write in my journal because it was such bliss. And then I thought, what’s wrong with writing about bliss? Why is it so much easier for me to write about the pitfalls than it is the blessings? Maybe it’s the Eastern European in me. There’s a kinship in the bitching. But anyway, I remember making the effort to write weekly about the good stuff, just the good stuff. Oh it wasn’t nearly as dynamic, but it felt good to have that on record. The good stuff. The stuff to be grateful for.