Monday, July 18, 2011

5 things

Ok, so i was reading a book and the author said that every day, one should make a list of five things that are good in one's life. Anything from getting the first shower (read: hot water) to seeing a spring crocus breaking through the snow. Some days, it's so easy that it hardy makes sense to make a list. The blessings just flow. Other days, the list is a bit more of a struggle.

Don't get me wrong. I know that i'm a blessed, spoiled little brat. That i live in a big ole house without foreclosure hanging over my head. That my family is healthy. That i don't have the "sturm und drang" of so many. I guess i just look for the extra-super-special events daily without really appreciating the little daily bonuses.

Not to mention the "anti-blessings". As the country song says, "some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers". That when i prayed to be pregnant right after Alessandra was weaned and then wasn't (would have missed Christian). That i didn't get the first guy that i thought that i wanted to marry (i'll let you wonder on that one) as i would have missed on Joe. That we didn't stay forever in Gahanna (would have missed ABQ and i love it here).

So, really, despite my grumbling, my life is pretty easy and good. I just have the eyes of a five year old and am looking for the pony. The lollipop moment every day when i can clap my hands and smile over something instead of just appreciating the calm goodness of the everyday.

Off to make dinner (in a kitchen with electricity, where it's not raining in behind my cabinets and there are not vermin infestations). Have a good evening yourself.

purgatory

So, Joe and i were talking about personal purgatories. Everyone has his or her own "private Hell", that special situation that would be the ideal, personalized purgatory for that person to be stuck with for all eternity in lieu of being greeted into paradise. What would be awful, horrible and nearly intolerable for one person would be easy-peasy for another.

Take Joe's private purgatory. To be stuck forever, driving a vehicle with no pick-up, behind a slow-moving car, driven by an old man in a hat, that Joe is unable to pass. To be stuck forever behind that slow driver who frequently puts on his brakes to slow for no apparent reason, then speeds up a bit, never passing the speed limit. Joe's idea of torture.

Meanwhile, i'm just as likely to be that horrid driver. Being stuck behind a horrid driver, while not a walk in the park mind you, isn't that bad for me. I'm already a slow driver and have never, no not even once, passed a driver on the left (crossing the middle line on a two-way road).

Mine private Hell? That's easy. I get a taste of it so very frequently that calling it to mind is, well,a no-brainer. Not being good enough. An eternity of "not achieving at potential", of being "not quite there yet...not good enough". Over and over being a C- in an A+ world. I was forever "not working up to potential" as a teen and a disappointment so frequently to my dad. I wasn't good enough in college and took six years to finish (took two quarters off....went part-time while working full-time...etc). I was fired from my college waitressing job. I wasn't good enough in my first nursing job and was nearly fired there too. I found my "niche" in PACU nursing but cannot do that anymore as i'm not willing to work the shifts available and am not deserving of "special consideration" given to some others. I repeatedly disappoint and frustrate my husband with my lackadaisical housekeeping and body habitus. And my kids are overly-indulged, incompetent and lazy. I should have done a better job when they were younger. At 14 and 16, they are already pretty set in their ways and difficult to "retrain". I can only hope that she marries well and has someone that can provide her with servants. He will marry someone that will take care of him or at least hire it out. He can at least cook a bit. She cannot even open a container of hummus.

Too late to start over now. My private purgatory is waiting for me every day. As many say that they get "a taste of paradise" when they come home and see their kids, kiss the spouse, catch the big fish or land that coveted promotion/job/college admission, i get a taste of my purgatory daily when i'm shown how i am a disappointment to those around me. You'd think that being in the middle of the bell curve (not fantastically great or horridly awful), there would be a lot of company in mediocrity. But no. It's kinda lonely being a disappointment. You'd think that after 45 years, i'd start to get it right (or at least get used to the short-comings).