Day 21: I’ve said too much

Oh life, it’s bigger
It’s bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I’ve said enough

Which version grabs you and why?

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Day 16: Are we having fun yet?

Am I? Why, yes, I am.Screen shot 2015-03-17 at 7.48.53 PM

In fact, I’ve expanded my definition of fun.

For example, (I can’t believe I’m going to admit this) talking to myself while I’m running makes me laugh. There’s no one around me–no need to be self-conscious. So I can be the crazy lady alone in the country who has conversations with her invisible blog audience, out loud while running in the middle of the road against non-existent traffic.

I stay up late, get up early(-ish), burn the candle at both ends but rarely feel tired. It’s my time. I like the idea of staying up just to play back-to-back word games on my iPhone. There is nothing pressing about tomorrow. But claiming the highest score in Scramble? Very urgent.

Seeing the sky in all of her moods–changing in color, light, cloud formations–is pretty darn enjoyable. Sure, I notice it in the city but out here, I have front row, center seats all the time. And I don’t have to sneak in my snacks. I get wowed by the window sill with dinner and a glass of wine. The repertoire is always worth it. And the encores keep comin’.

What else amuses me? Seeing how long I can make random meals out of one trip to the grocery store. You know what they say about a country mile. Since it’s a chore to go to the market, I’ve been maximizing my ingredients. I am the Iron Chef of eggs and English muffins. Pasta three ways? No problem. Melted cheese, sprinkled cheese, sliced or grated… (Hey, how you serve it makes the difference between Italian or Mexican.) Pot roast for dinner can be hashed for breakfast. Liquid lunch? Why not.

Matter of fact, I’ve discovered me-time Happy Hour, Monday night wine and cheese and post-run pear cider. There’s never a line at the door and the tab is always open.

No, no, no. Get that she’s-drinking-alone-in-the-middle-of-nowhere image out of your head. I am under a way different kind of influence. (But it is Saint Patrick’s Day today, so it’s possible that might change.)

Screen shot 2015-03-17 at 7.46.43 PMI think 30 days of me-time does call for a toast. To taking time off–except it’s not even really time “off”. I’ve been more “on” the last two weeks, actually. How ’bout I raise a glass to the headstrong girl inside me who said, F-it. The one who quietly stood up in the middle of a 5:00 meeting on a Wednesday and decided there was someplace more fun she should be.

Cheers to that.

Day 5: A New Perspective

I just got off the phone with a friend I’ve known for 16 years. She’s getting married in two months, and we talked about her process of getting to this decision and facing the fear of making the wrong one.

She said she could’ve focused on all the little holes in the fabric or look at the swath and its beautiful design. And she just decided that the bigger picture was the better one. Less stressful, more workable, more attractive even. It was a practical approach. I didn’t hear any passion in her voice. But I could understand why it worked for her.

Screen shot 2015-03-05 at 11.20.30 PM

We talked about how her analogy could apply to so many things. This idea of focusing on the fine detail versus appreciating the whole of something. To see the good qualities and let the imperfections go. Not in an “I’ve settled” way but in a “to know is to love” way.

What do I make of this in my own life? I’ve lived in my neighborhood for nearly 18 years and I still have a hard time thinking it’s home. Not because anything is wrong but because of all the little what ifs. For more than 20 years, I’ve pushed myself to what I thought was the next rung in my career. My MO has been to keep going–wherever there’s room to go, to explore, to become. And as I kept moving, I never put a solid professional stake in the ground. I abandoned three long-term relationships, for many complicated reasons, or maybe a simple one–that I only saw all the holes.

Tonight I question… would my life be better, would I feel more settled, if I just decided to sit with the bigger picture. To look at the fabric as a finished blanket, not a mesh of woven threads.  To feel fine knowing there’s a different design, a different texture, a different fit, perhaps. But decide that fixating on those things is just that–different, not better.

I realize it’s not a perfect analogy. And that it might apply to some things, not all. But it gives me pause and comes back to what I’m doing with this time off. Understanding that perspective matters. And that changing yours can sometimes be the only thing you need to do to find what you’re looking for.