Un-dream squashing

Do you ever just feel like you're really lucky? Not that you've finally "won" at some socially ascribed visual of what lucky looks like. But lucky on your own terms.

Tonight I feel that way. Lucky. Really legitimately and genuinely lucky. It has nothing to do with money (clearly), except that it also totally does. It does as money pertains to you and who you really are and where you fit best in the world. Not everyone would make a good Fortune 500 CEO. Not just on the business front, but being able to utilize the packaged CEO lifestyle that comes with it, all its nuances. Some people are meant to have that life. And when they've secured it, and they look around them, and they say "Yes. This is where I'm my best." then they're lucky, too. But when they look around them and they say "Crap. I need x, y or z more or different in order to feel good about myself as a human." then no. Not lucky. Right? This isn't rocket science. Or like trying to get the bolts off your daughter's training wheels with your bare hands. We're told from day one to be true to ourselves. To be what we want to be. Because we can be.

But then we mold into the common recurring themes of the environment around us. And what we want to be strays a bit from who we really wanted to be when our eyes were bigger and our impulse to be accepted was smaller. Not for absolutely everyone, maybe. Or at least, if not for everyone, just maybe not all at the same time. Some of us may not realize we're lucky until we're just about to die. Others know it when they're 7.

I think it's kind of like dream squashing. It's what I always tell River not to do to his sister. "Don't be a dream squasher." You want to grow up to be a rainbow. And then you're told that's ridiculous, for a gazillion reasons. And so you want to grow up to be something else that's most definitely not a rainbow. Dream squashed.

I'm lucky because I have absolutely everything I want out of life, right here. All of it. Two kids who are quirky and fun and who love each other. The best of loves. Friends who know me and my closet inside and out. Friends who I would trust with the lives of my children. I have a job that invigorates me. I have angst. But just enough to keep me constantly challenged and aware of how I can work to alleviate that angst (hello? Winona Ryder?). I have people who will love to engage with me, and who will absolutely hate every word out of my mouth. I have people who dislike me. I have people who I dislike. But the likes are always winning. And the dislikes are always exercising my patience muscle. That fucker is getting strong. I am living life in a way that I chose, that was not imposed upon me. I am good in this spot.

I want to be able to travel a lot. But it just doesn't work out that way. Maybe it's not because I'm not working hard enough in a high-paying mega-corporate job. And maybe if I changed that then I could travel. Maybe instead I'd just find out that it wasn't money that was preventing me from traveling. It was simply not for me at this time or in this body. I'd honestly be better here in this spot. This town, this role, this house, this air space. And if I were to travel a lot, I'd find my contentment gauge plunging in the wrong direction. Because I know right here that I am being the person that I want to be. And who knows where that might take me. My dreams haven't been squashed at all. I just forgot what they looked like maybe.

Maggie's cute ant that is likely still un-squashed.
I'm off my woo woo rocker tonight and I know it. I was doing my laundry, not giving a care to separate any particular colors from any particular anything, and it occurred to me that I am so good here. And if I get to live in a 2 bedroom house with a slug problem in the basement for the rest of my life and be guaranteed to be at least this content as I am now, fuck yeah. I'll take that deal. Cheers to being here, guys. All that is good and all that is shitty. Honor both of them, cause they give life a worthy balance.


Lei said…
I think it's nice to reach a place of balance.

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