The Evolution of Life

Sometimes I feel like my life falls right in between here....

and here....

Lately even more so.

Being in a married, but childless couple, is typically a very short stepping stone for a lot of people. As the years go on, for us it becomes our normal- our every day. And don't get me wrong, I have no problem with that at all. I quite like where we are. I think too many people see life as a checklist, and after getting married, having children is the next thing on the list. I say, love where you are. Stay and enjoy it for a little while.

So I guess the problem lies mostly in socializing. At my age, most my friends fall into one of the above categories. This allows me to find myself in varying degrees of life phases, but all in the present.

For example:

A few short weeks ago I was visiting a friend with three kids. I love the kids. I love the cute things they say and do. I love the simplicity of living out your day.

BUT....

I hate going to the park and sitting mindlessly while watching them play. I hate fighting them at meals. I hate the terrible cartoons they watch on tv and kid movies they see in the theatre. I hate the bickering. I hate the messes. I hate the tantrums and the split second change of emotions. I hate the errands. I hate having to get a babysitter in order to maintain any sense of adult sanity.

THEN:

A few less weeks ago I was visiting my still single college roommate. I love her. I love all the fun things we do together. I love catching up. I love feeling careless. I love reminiscing. I love meeting new people and seeing old friends.

BUT....

I hate the sense of meaningless. I hate the way she seems to try and impress strangers. I hate that she is always on some type of social media. I hate that she is not plugged into any kind of family life. I hate that taking care of yourself converts so easily into selfishness. I hate that marriage and sacrifice and giving so much to someone else seems lost on her at times. I hate that the transition into adulthood has been altered by circumstances.

This isn't just an extreme example of either end that happened to take place recently. This is my every day life. Last night I had dinner with my cousin's family of five and later this week I will have dinner with my single cousin. This literally happens nearly every week.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't somewhat enjoy it. I like experiencing a little bit of life this way and life that way. The hard part is that they both frustrate me! I come home exhausted from the kids or feeling empty from the lack of personal relationships and meaning.

I can't argue the point that I'm in a very selfish marriage. We both want what we want. BUT, it is still a marriage and we both make huge sacrifices for each other. Nothing we do is strictly about ourselves. I miss being single, but would I want to be single now? No way. I look forward to being a mom someday but am I sad I'm not one now? No way.

I've sort of had this epiphany about the evolution of life and where I am finding myself "10 years later"... or where I'll find myself 10 years from now. I am finding that you can look back, but you can only move forward. I cherished the time I had to be on my own out in the world. I would have even gladly welcomed a few more years of it. I think as time passes I realize more and more how crucial that time was to the person I am now. I think I will miss that time more than any other phase of life when all is said and done and it's a shame that those years passed so quickly. Still... the twenties were such a decade of discovery. I was a little bit nervous about them when they began and as I approach my thirties I have never in my life been so excited for the next 10 years. I think they are going to be amazing... but I'm not quite there yet.

And I'm happy about that too.

Secret Ambitions

Not too long ago I went to a local theatre production with my mom. Her teenage neighbor had a part in it so we went to support her. As I watched her up on that stage acting, I so deeply admired her bravery.

I've never been one for the spotlight. I am fearfully shy for the most part and I hate feeling exposed and vulnerable. Even so, every girl dreams about what it would feel like. I never did do any kind of theatre. I didn't see it as an acceptable activity for fitting in with the "cool" kids. Being shy, fitting in is your best option- people won't pay extra attention to you, but they will accept you.

Now that I'm an adult I still have shy tendencies. I still don't want all kinds of attention, but there's not a lot of pressure to "fit in" anywhere. There are truly as many varying degrees of adult personalities as there are snowflakes, as they say. (Not to mention, if you're truly in a good marriage you should receive most of your acceptance in the world from it and nothing else matters.) I've thought about this a lot since high school. I wish I knew then what I know now and I truly wish I hadn't been worried about the things that were constantly on my mind back then. Because the truth? They don't matter one bit now.

It got me thinking about all the things I would've/should've/could've done, had I ignored my inhibitions. I think I'd have mustered up the courage to at least try things and maybe find something I truly enjoyed. It makes me admire, all the more, kids today who do the things they love because they love it. I have a brother who wouldn't know how to live any differently and I I admire him so much for it.

Repetitive Arguments

Why is it that every time the Mr. and I have a significant disagreement, I feel like we've had it before? It's like there's no end to the war, just battle after battle after battle.

Like today when the same old issue arrived on the doorstep, he immediately says, "yeah, well... I'm sorry." YOU'RE SORRY?! No, I don't accept. Fix. It. Don't just apologize as if to say, "well, that's who I am and you're just gonna have to live with it." I still can't believe that's the first thing he said- the white flag immediately went up, like he knows I'm gonna be pissed, but why go there when he can just relent. Well, no thanks. I want a resolution, not an apology!

It makes me feel like all the hundreds of times we tried to resolve this in the past, nothing ever stuck. On this particular matter, the last confrontation was pretty big. I felt like I had to cave a little and he was humbled a little and the fact that the same subject is now back on the table is him saying, "actually, I didn't change at all. I just told you what you wanted to hear." Which actually isn't even true because it wasn't what I wanted to hear and I wasn't happy with it then.

The more my blood boils the more I realize that we are always fighting about the same damn things. In general, I think we get along great. I know for a fact that he gives in more than I do, but sometimes when a person is right there's no changing it (and I can promise you that I am right on this one). Even if I weren't right, doesn't he understand that it's important to me? It matters to me?

Journaling

Lately I've had a lot of things on my mind. Unfortunately, I am not ready to release most of them to the cyber world, not to mention to about three of the people whom I know read this blog.

Growing up I was a very dedicated journal writer. Looking back now I realize that was both a curse and a blessing. There's a lot I learn form my past self (sometimes I think maybe I'm the opposite of progressing...) and sometimes the stuff is just lame, embarrassing, or totally worthless and makes me seem like a freak for even writing any of it down. But the one thing I love most about it is that it's the most raw version of me, in any given moment. This blog, as opposed to "look at how picturesque my life is" family blog, is kind of like that. And there are a lot of reasons I don't mix the two.

You see, I'm a very emotional journal writer. In fact, the Mr. always teases that I only write in my journal when I'm mad at him, and if he catches me doing it, will shower me with apologies for whatever he did wrong. It's only half true though. The problem about being an emotional writer is that not every emotion is positive (which can be scary if you're equipped with the weapon of words) and when you are that emotional it definitely can stand in the way of logic.

In this day and age, I find it hard to pick up a pen and actually write on blank pages. My hand starts cramping after less then three minutes and it makes me wonder if my children will ever physically "write" things in today's expanding technological world. Not to mention, now that I have a blog (or two or three) the journal thing has kind of fallen by the wayside. The great thing about this is that I am still good at documenting events and such and it makes it so easy, but the drawback is that while you get a glimpse of my life, there is really no platform for me to expose my soul; the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. And here's the thing- aren't we all this way? Isn't there still so much we conceal and hide because we don't want to voluntarily be so vulnerable?

I think of all the times I've spent re-reading old journals- crying, laughing, rolling my eyes- sometimes the way I feel about something in the present comes to a new light when I read about the way I used to feel about something. It's almost as if I understand myself a little bit more. But looking back on my blog books, I don't get that kind of depth, everything is just pretty platonic. Sure, there are things that bring back good memories and occasionally sad ones, but there's no real hearty substance to them.

But you can't just go writing whatever you want and let the world read it! At least... I can't. Perhaps it's my own self awareness, or my lack of confidence, or fear of judgement. Whatever it is, it holds me back.

So, that's the reason I can't won't write about all the things that have been on my mind lately. But I do know this- they are shaping who I am. You know all that hype about thoughts becoming your character? It's occurring to me as we speak. Not all my thoughts are positive or maybe they are just a bit cynical, and some of them are very positive and uplifting, but they are definitely changing the way I see the world, the way I see myself in this world, and the way I see others in the world.

Busy Doing Nothing... and Stuff

My husband was just telling me today that I have a talent for filling down time with productive things that no one else really cares about. I guess he's right. Lately I feel like I always have a project (or many projects). Thus the blog neglect. But these things are keeping me happy and productive and generally help me avoid unnecessary stress caused by my own over worrying about life in general. So, all is well. I'm sure I'll find time for blog expression in the near future, but for now I'm filling my life with tasks.

My Mortal Prison

So the other day I was in the car with my parents and I don't remember the unfolding of this conversation, but it happened...

My mom brought up some incident where someone maybe claimed to have seen their body as they died and their spirit drifted off into heaven- or maybe it was all hypothetical. As we soaked in the thought casually she asked us, "That would be so weird. What would you be thinking as you drifted away and saw your own body lying there?"

"WOOHOO! I am so done with you!" I shouted without too much thought.

It caught them both off guard but they both started laughing. My dad started nodding in agreement and said he might feel the same way. My mom just kind of shrugged and smiled at the thought.

I said, "What? You don't think Grandma felt that way?"

We all concluded that I'm sure she did. If you're a blog follower you'll know that she passed last April after a long battle with an aging body. It was awful. I just felt so much pity for her as it continued, and as sad as it was to see her go, we all knew she was shouting praises as she left us all behind. My mom even said she felt like other close family members who have passed kind of lingered or looked back, but not our sweet Grandma! She was over it.

So, to give a little substance to my comment, I just feel imprisoned by my mortal body sometimes. A lot of times. And I have to admit that I'm grateful for every pain free day full of "normal" activity, and I've had a lot of them lately.

Still, arthritis is not kind on the human body. It's extremely crippling when it gets severe and the shame of being in a wheelchair at 25 is something you don't quickly forget. The embarrassment of having someone assist you in the bathroom can steal your dignity, and the mental adjustments you have to make to accommodate your physical limitations are more suited for someone three times your age.

So it always has me wondering...

why does my body have a hard time doing this....

While other people can use their bodies to do this!!

It amazes me. I don't even know how people come up with these things. "I know! Let's try...."

Really? C'mon. That's just too amazing.

Struggling with physical problems in my twenties constantly has me worrying about what it will be like when I'm in my thirties, or forties, or fifties, or beyond! I mean, if it's bad now, what's to come? So you can maybe understand why my spirit will be rejoicing at it leaves my mortal body in the dust. Not to be morbid, but it sure makes death seem a little bit wonderful.

Homebody

Have I ever told you that I lead two different lives?

One where I'm energetic and spunky, out and about, doing everything I can conquer in the short hours of a day, and taking the world in one piece at a time.

And one where I'm a hermit. It's unexciting and dull.... and for some reason I find it rejuvenating.

I've met some homebodies in my time and although I don't think I'm the most extreme, I can definitely hold my own. My husband finds it disturbing when I haven't left the house for three days (and I'm talking not even to get the mail), so he'll say, "C'mon! Let's go somewhere and get out of the house." Most the time I look baffled and think, "uh-oh, has it really been that long again?"

It just doesn't bother me. I feel like there are plenty of things to accomplish within the walls of my own home, but it's not always about accomplishment either. I like peace and quiet. I like being left to my own thoughts. I like not having to go through the hassle of getting out the door every day of my life (I count it at a blessing, in fact).

I do love to travel, so when I'm out, I AM OUT! I do and see everything I can and I love every little second of it.

But when I'm home, I like to be home.

I think in some ways it's kind of a burden. I realize when I've been home for a long time and in hibernating mode I sometimes have trouble shifting the gears back. I don't like to talk to strangers or making small talk and I have a hard time coming back out of my shell, but it eventually it wears off and I'm back to my first personality again.

The adventurous side of me is definitely more interesting, but I guess it's because of the other side that I really develop any depth.