On Starting Over, Part 2

I’m an ordinary woman. A mother and a wife. I didn’t plan it that way, but it worked out, and I’m grateful. I dislike housework. Love my dogs. Eat too much chocolate. I’m a woman familiar with peaks and valleys. I live in hilly country.

I’m trying to start over inside my shell. Contained movement. I don’t want to crack my world wide open. I have no desire to see the golden yolk of my life running through my fingers.

This is delicate business, purposeful and slow. I am not by nature deliberate. I came to the world in a rush. Almost in the front seat of my parent’s bright yellow VW Bug. Lately, life seems like a series of “almosts.”

I don’t want to live an “almost” life.

This makes me a woman on a quest.

“How renaissance faire,” you think? I’ve never been to one. Do you envision me in armor? If so, don’t make it shiny, a little rust will do. A ding in the breast plate. A dent in the helm.

Every day I’m seeking something. I’m looking inside myself for something a little better, a little truer. I think that sounds too much like Dr. Seuss: “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You. Happy Birthday!” My quest is not a birthday slogan, no matter how Seuss-y it may sound to my ear, or yours. (Although, my insides may hold quite a bit of birthday cake on any given day.)

Inside me, in my heart space and my head place, is something better than what I have been letting get out. Inside there is more truth than I have been accessing. This is the crux of the matter. This is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Life doesn’t have to fall apart before I seek those better parts of myself – before I cultivate creativity, compassion, mindfulness, exploration, curiosity, engagement.

I don’t have to be wealthy. I don’t have to lose everything. I don’t have to be in the perfect job, house or car. I don’t have to wait for the conditions to be ripe. I am not a cantaloupe.

I can be an ordinary woman. I AM an ordinary woman. I can change inside my world. The shell is permeable and malleable. It will grow and reshape itself to fit me.

Here’s the other thing, I think it might be true for you, too.



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