"Should look like..."
It's a phrase that I've finally been able to name in the last month or two.
It's the phrase that has, in truth, been at the root of all of the "stuff" (trying to not be profane) that I've been wrestling with for the last year. Almost exactly a year, if you carefully read back. I got caught up, bogged down, mired in the swamp of trying desperately to figure out what my life "should look like". In spite of my own pleas for authenticity- both from me and those dearest to me- I instead got caught up in exactly the opposite. It was a lot like picking up someone else's bag off of the luggage carousel. I got home, found their stuff inside of a bag that I thought was mine, and realized that there was nothing there that actually belonged to me. Figuring that out, though, was the hard part.
"Should look like"
There are these points in all of our lives where we back up, reassessing who we are and what we're doing. Having turned 40 right around when this happened for me, some would call it "midlife". The term used by someone I respect greatly for her thoughts on these issues is "midlove"; I far prefer "midlove" because I want to believe that I'm in the midst of learning to love me, love my life, love the things and people surrounding me. It has more passion (and compassion) than midlife.
"Should look like"
Sure, some of it was likely finally feeling I was in an established space in my career, that crazy thing that I committed to with the Lost Decade. I realized that it wasn't looking at all like I wanted it to, that I was working far more and playing far less than my soul can tolerate. I was losing the things I had held sacred for years. Fortunately the Dean's Office saved me from Trauma Call, and I can't say I've looked back for even a moment. My professional "should look like" lines up almost perfectly with "does look like."
"Should look like"
I was injured and got sick, all at the same time. All within two weeks of my 40th birthday. Foolishly, I got this idea in my head that there was no one to take care of me, no one to help me because of my single girl status. I isolated- and as I did that I got more scared, more lonely, more angry, and more confused. Somehow I forgot that I have these amazing friends who would have done about anything had I called and asked. The power of connection is amazing. I forgot how to use it. Lesson learned.
"Should look like"
In the thick of my isolation swamp, I became belaguered with the idea of being a failure, being miserable, and being lonely because I'm 40, single, without kids, and with no serious prospects for any of that changing. That's really what made me realize I had picked up someone else's proverbial luggage- I've never felt my life to be empty or lacking because I am single and don't have my own children. Even if marriage and kids were to happen, the truth is that they're not the core of who I am and they won't become the core of my identity. That's not who I am, and it's never who I've been. What I've come to realize is that I am loved by a few of the men in my life in an unconditional, non-judgmental spirit, and that they love me at my best and worst. While I'm not looking at any of them across the breakfast table every day, our friendships are consistent sources of strength and comfort. I'll take my refuge in those friendships any day- and that is who I am and is at the core of my identity.
"Should look like"
Three little words that can cause so much pain when what we've got isn't what we think it should look like.
I've hurt. I've grown. I've reclaimed my vision of what my life should look like. Let me repeat- I've reclaimed my vision of what my life should look like.
And you know what?
It's a pretty amazing place, even when it exhausts me to my core. It has roses and twinkle lights and hammocks and gentle breezes through aspen trees (at least in summer). It has snowstorms followed by blue skies and powder days and snowball fights (in winter). It has courage and love and laughter and kindness (year-round). It has kitties and chocolate and great shoes and red wine and music....and children who aren't mine but who I love and who touch my life with their courage and love and laughter and kindness.
Most importantly, I like it here. It suits me. It's where I belong.
----------------
Now playing: Sean McConnell - Our Love and Our Souls
via FoxyTunes