I recently received a comment about one of my posts, which I have let drive me crazy. The person (whose blog I read regularly and enjoy – particularly for the fabulous photography) wrote candidly that he didn’t read my posts frequently because he found them “too sweet”. Now before you say anything – this isn’t a referendum on whether he’s right. He’s right – I’m not the type to disabuse anyone of their feelings and after obsessing about this for days now, I see his point.
I assure you I’m not all that sweet. Well, I’m sweet, but I have as many snarky moments as the next person. And I can be sarcastic. And if you’re a friend or relative of mine, I can be an absolute lioness – with both chuffing and growling sounds perfected. You get my drift, though believe me I could go on and tell you all the reasons why I can compete with the best provocateurs, devil’s advocates and cynics. Just ask Andy. But I digress (again).
What gets me is how much I let this thought consume me. I have held onto this like Archie covets a new bone. The circuitous breeze in my head blows relentlessly and none too gently. “Have I become saccharine?” “What do I want this blog to reflect?” “Is it honest” “Am I still thinking like Pollyanna?” (answer to this question is – yes). “Do I have anything new to say or have I become Mimi One-Note?” “How much do I want to put out there” Of course, the answers change direction depending on the time of day, the state of my hair, and whether I have eaten recently. As of this writing, I’ve decided that I’ve got to let it go. Must be time for lunch.
I began this blog with a thousand different ideas about what I wanted it to be like and then zeroed in on a year’s worth of entries that I could print out and give to my sons – a somewhat morbid, but well-intended gesture for them. I’m now well into my second year and I can’t see giving them a flippin’ tome, so what am I doing now? Honestly, I have no idea. Given that I’m a big believer that certain answers come with time, I’m giving it time and just moving forward. What I do know is that I’m as transparent as I feel I can be.
On Monday we were out to dinner with friends of ours who have had a really challenging year. Her son was diagnosed with a serious illness, she was just laid off for the second time in less than a year. The company he works for is on the brink of going under. And yet, there we sat genuinely aware that we were all beyond lucky. First and foremost, her son is much, much better – and that offers a perspective like nothing else. We live in far better circumstances than most people in the world. We laugh – a lot. We know love. We’re more aware that the concept of happiness is not something that is a given, rather more like snatches of sunlight between the cracks in a day. The key is in noticing those spaces. I’m trying to look for them, choosing to find them. I don’t want to miss my chances, for the weather changes with little warning.
Lately, I’ve been acutely aware of time speeding past. When the hell did I become 59 when I still hold on to such immaturity? I’m not ready to age-out of life just yet and would prefer to be in the game with some well-preserved naiveté and faith in a whole bunch of things that are bigger than me (note to David Kanigan – no height comments here, pal). I’d rather be acknowledging the spaces in-between and delight when I find them. Pollyanna? You betcha – though I don’t do braids.