The one in which I sink in to unbelievable levels of domesticity (yes, even more than before, and more than I thought was possible) and love every minute of it
Are you the kind to person who permanently lives in a cloud filled to the seams with dreams of a possible future? Of endless possibilities all criss-crossing and fighting to come out on top? Of wanting to see through haze of all that is the present and look beyond, into the future so you can pinpoint just that one thing you really want to focus on?
I am. Or at least I thought I was. For a long time ago, I harboured this constant nagging feeling that things are not the way
they should be I imagined they would be. Life was always be all kinds of awesome, on so many levels, yet something small, somewhere would fall just a little short. leaving me with thoughts of what if, and if only and why not?
When I joined college, it was a deeply disappointing three years. I mean who knew they don’t actually teach you, but merely dictate notes and prep you for exams?! When I graduated and started work, it was a constant time of discovery, of never really knowing where I was headed, or ever feeling sure of what I want. All my previous serious relationships, while fun and awesome in their own ways, had their own sets of question marks, needling little things that always kept me from settling in fully. And then I met the husband, and for once things slipped into that the-way-they-are-meant-to-be kind of comfort. The kind you never have to rethink or question or work your way around, and yet something was a amiss, but I could never quite tell what.
Through it all I’d promise myself it would all fall in place someday. Pegging all my hopes and dreams — for that perfect job, a perfect equilibrium of work and life, an amazing future packed with travel and discovery, a whole bunch of like-minded friends — on that one unnamed day in the unforeseeable future.
I guess that’s makes me the epitome of not living in the moment. Having permanently tuned my radar tuned into the future and the what-will-be. Donning rose-tinted glasses, as if to compensate for the palpable lack of that something in my present, I counted on the future.
But constantly viewing the world in a skewed shade of coral is tiring and disturbing. Many years of it, even until about six months ago, and I feel like I was done counting on the what ifs and the how abouts. And I don’t know where the switch was turned off, but today I find myself more at peace with where I am than I ever was. Which is funny, because for the first time in my life I don’t have a concrete answer to give when people ask me “So what do you do?”
I was foxed when the sweet girl who manages my investments came over the other day. We caught up after a long gap, and given my current state of erratic finances, she seemed concerned and asked why I haven’t found myself some sort of job, even if I were to do it from home. I didn’t know how to explain to her that I don’t want a job. That I am not looking to fill my time. That I don’t just sit around all day doing nothing.
The truth is I do a lot. But not all of it is tangible, or has a defined, well-rounded and acceptable term to call it by. The more I find myself wanting to stay home, the more I find I am growing comfortable in the things I have discovered I love. Cooking, writing, reading. That pretty much sums up what I spend my day doing. And right now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Is this what I want to do for life? Or is this the beginning of something in the future?
Maybe? Maybe not. I honestly don’t know. And for once in my life, I’m okay with
both either. For the first time ever I find myself not calculating the next move, or making plans. For once, I find myself enjoying the simplest, silliest things in an otherwise very mundane existence. And for once, I didn’t care if she (or anybody else for that matter) got it or not. I didn’t care to justify or quantify it in anyway.
All through my life I planned and dreamed about the future. And yet something was constantly stirring in me. This is probably the only time I have truly let go, and strangely enough, even without knowing what the future holds, I have this enormously calming feeling that this, right here, is where I want to be.
There are two kinds of women in the world. Those that were born to love domesticity. And those that discover it later in life. Very clearly, I belong to the latter kind. I feel like life has brought me full circle to where I probably belong, and it makes me wonder why I fought it all along. Why did I don those rose-tinted glasses? Why did I built so many castles in the air? Why did I depend so heavily on the future?
Is this what living in the moment is? I’m not sure as yet. But even as I ask myself these meandering questions and figure it out, I pack away those glasses. And this time, perhaps its for good.