I haven't posted anything on here for quite a while. I think after the pinata posting, it didn't really feel right putting serious thoughts on here as well. I have since changed my mind about that.
A lot has changed for me. I am married now, and very happily married, at that. I have a new kick-ass job that I love- that allows me to be creative and to take the reigns. It challenges me daily, and I love it.
My friendships are evolving and changing. Some for the better, and some for something else. Is this a simple fact of life? I'm not sure. So many things get in the way. Some things just don't come as easily as they once did. Perhaps this is because as we age, our priorities shift. I feel closer and more in tune with James than ever, and farther apart from some of my old friends than ever before. I know this is partially because between the new demanding job and the new loving husband, my schedule has fewer gaps than it has ever had. But I also know it is due to something more. My opinions on what that 'something more' consists of changes daily.
My family and I have a great relationship, but I don't see them as much as I should. Part of this, again, is the lack of gaps. And part of it is something else. I've always been different than my family. I'm the 'black sheep' or the 'hippy'. Lovely, I know. It marks how much of me they don't quite get. They have continually struggled to understand me and my past behavior. It makes sense, after all, since I never admitted some of my hardest struggles; some struggles, however, I have shared openly and honestly. Of course my family loves me very much- unconditionally. But I do sometimes feel like its hard to relate, and harder for them to relate to me. The emotions that fill me, instinctual and social, are powerful. And the sadness that can accompany this plethora of emotions is hard to explain- especially to those who, no matter how much they love me, cannot empathize. Sometimes my sister's off handed comments demonstrate plainly, and painfully, how far removed she is from me.
She isn't heartless, she is overwhelmed by her own difficulties. And perhaps that is the problem we all face. We can't see the forest for the trees. I tend to take things personally, even when other peoples' actions, or inactions, have nothing at all to do with me. It is so easy to focus on what's in the foreground- to become so overwhelmingly absorbed in your personal here and now. It is a horrible thing to feel so far away from other people- to feel so clueless, and to have no one in the picture to explain it to you. It makes so much sense to place the reason on the shoulders you know best: your own.
So if I realize all this, if I see the pain I exacerbate pointlessly, then why isn't it something I can easily amend? I don't know the answer.
Here's something I do know: The sun wakes me in the morning, radiating warmth through the layers of covers on my bed. The beams start at my toes and inch methodically up my body. Every morning it's the same routine. When the light finally reaches my face it stands at attention, refusing to budge. When I surrender and rise, I see from the window my sweet pup asleep in the first light, his chestnut fur shining. I smell the musky sweet perfume of coffee, and hear the rustling of James' newspaper. I am happy here. Maybe this is all I need.