Alright, Life. Lets You and Me Make it Happen.

There are a great many things I want for this brief life.

A set of cleverly reupholstered antique chairs.

I dream big.

Nothing has ever felt impossible to me, and I suppose this is why I have a mad case of the wanderlust. I adore change as much as I adore holidays, game nights, and a mean cut of steak.

I fear a rut more than I fear murder.

At least to be murdered would be a change, right?

Okay. Too dark. Reeling it in.

I don't want to be murdered. Old age for me, 'kay fates? Or perhaps becoming trapped in the past by a time-machine mishap - but, then also old age. Just...Edwardian style; graceful and with a corset.

I understand the virtues of contentment. But I don't want to be content. I want to want. I have deep cut fire-burned yearning that does not let me rest.

The daily grind? No thanks.
The quiet life? I'll take it in the moments in-between, please.
The road less traveled? Sign me up.

It's a messy contradiction: the introvert who wants it all. But I find it all just that much more interesting. And why not?

Why not experience the world? The world is there for the experiencing, right?

If a stranger walked up to you, pressed $300 into your hand, looked you straight in the eye and said, "This is yours, for making this day memorable. One day - but memories to last you into your grave," would you pocket it to pay those pressing bills? Or would you go and do something amazing? And which would make you wise?

The sign for "wisdom" suggests that being wise is being smart in your head and in your heart.

I've learned of myself that of the two, my heart tends to be the smarter. I've learned to pay attention. And right now, I have a restlessness of soul.

I have that restlessness of soul. The one that can only mean one thing: Change is coming.

Like a long absent friend I can't wait to stay up all night talking with!

I don't mean to sound malcontent. This is not about feeling dissatisfied or envious of what I don't have. I love my life - especially those I live it with. I understand that life is not situational. I subscribe to the belief that life is what you make it - and mine is turning into a freakin' masterpiece! I don't mind saying. It's a brilliant mess.

Let me ask you this. Did Neil Armstrong settle on the first opportunity that came along? Did the Wright brothers stop at satisfied? Did Michelangelo leave well enough alone?

I'm not saying I'm a brilliant explorer, artist, or inventor. I'm also not saying I couldn't be.

(did you follow the double negative?)

Maybe I'll live in Europe and take a walk on cobbled streets every afternoon to clear my head before getting back to writing my next best-seller.

Maybe I'll live in Guatemala, helping my husband build orphanages, schools, and hospitals that will remain uncorrupted.

Maybe I'll live on a farm somewhere in the middle of the country, making dinner for my family from things I gathered from our own property earlier in the day.

I know as we get older, opportunities seem more scarce. Adults tend to look at youth with a bittersweet nostalgia for what could have been.

What I'm saying is - nothing about numbers changing on a calendar makes the belief that anything is possible misleading.

But then - like I said - I've got that restlessness of soul.

That always tends to make me burn.

Speaking of doing awesome things; I'm doing this awesome thing:

Will I see you there?


Lizzie said...

Come to Rexburg! What an adventure!