Wednesday, August 31, 2011

There are days when I just don't know in which direction to look.  As I age, it seems, the less I know for sure.

Somehow my time seems to be ticking by so quickly and I'm nervous about this because I feel my real potential, has not been reached. Don't get me wrong, I have had my moments of true gel where everything lined up perfectly and complete joy swept across my being, but mostly I allowed myself to become so absorbed with reaching my goals that I forgot how to just enjoy life. 

Now, at nearly 45, my life is half over and I feel a sense of urgency like never before.  Each day when I awake, the first thing I say to myself is, "YES! You get another day!" ~ another chance to coming closer to perfection.  Isn't that funny? so? 

My face is not getting more perfect as it droops and wrinkles, my body is not getting more perfect as it shrinks and shifts, my bank account isn't more perfect as I struggle to pay tuitions for three kids and for a family of 5. 

What then exactly am I doing each and every day trying to race towards perfection? Why the self imposed pressure to have the house immaculate, to have white teeth, hair styled and a well put together outfit?  No that's not what I mean by perfection.  Perfection consists of a day following a schedule and having the freedom to be in control of my time so that when I wish to go off the beaten path I can.

Then there is the other part of me that is so happy and grateful to have accomplished the things I already have. An education, a stable relationship of nearly 25 years, three beautiful healthy children, travel and experiences that most others will never have. Throughout my day I look for things to be thankful for.  Today I was thankful that I was in my car and not sitting on the corner boulevard with a card board sign asking for work like the guy I drove by...and when I noticed two young men playing catch football in a grassy yard, I  thought, isn't it a wonderful life?

That day however, instead of being fun or having fun, I was at work on a Friday at 8pm and on my way to defend my commission to my client.  This is the 2nd time this week I had the commission discussion. I have to bottle up my anger, they simply have no idea how hard I work for this tiny income. Lately I have wanted to go drill Sargent on their clients that is. If I could perfect the art of controlling my schedule I wouldn't have to work nights and weekends and I could pencil in more fun.

Why is it that lately (more than ever) my inner Tiger Mom is crying like a caged zoo animal?  I want to scold people when I seem them smoke, I want to scream from the top of the HOT N NOW sign to the parents below, "Stop feeding your kids this crap!" 

As I realize my life is half over I also feel a pressure that others might enjoy the moment too.  I want others to care more, try harder and make personal sacrifices for themselves, because I know this life IS NO DRESS REHEARSAL and that there is the only way to build true self love, inner peace and joy.  You have to do the hard work of self examination.

One of the downsides to this urgency comes in the form of a complete zero tolerance for small children in what I deem adult space. What has happened to me? I used to be so relaxed about this stuff.  Not anymore, I tell myself, "Don't waste my time with your screaming brat."  I deserve quiet when I choose what should be an adult function. For all you guilt ridden parents, please leave your kids home with a sitter or just don't go out.

To relax, I find myself reading the same book over and over every night because the author is incredibly wise and wrote it while in a run down beach house by the sea. As I strive for perfection every day I never let go of my vision of a beach house with mismatched cotton quilts.  In my beach house fantasy, I read books and write, I cook and bake.  I nap and then swim in the ocean and then nap again.  This is the real perfection I'm dreaming of.

As I approach 45, I realize I really like being alone and I don't really see myself with many friends, but I have a crazy desire to meet someone who gets me.  Just once in my life I would like to meet my match.  Who is it?  Is she my age?  Is he already approaching 90? Are you out there? Because I am nervous around most people, I find myself talking fast, trying to explain myself to my coach as she looks at me bewildered most of the time.  What is it about me that I can't relate to most people?  For example I don't know anything about organized sports and I don't find sitting around eating and drinking entertaining. 

I'm really tired of the sexist roles we have ourselves firmly defined by too.  The guys at work tell the classic cave man jokes and the gals just cringe.  Sometimes they belt out a loud laugh (like a man is expected to) to show that they are cool. So I guess perfection lies in the perception of any given moment.  Today I ate popcorn for dinner. 

Right now, I lie in bed hungry because of this choice. I end the day the same way it starts...I lie still and try to concentrate on my beating heart.  I think to myself, "Wow!  This is an amazing miracle, my life ~ I cant wait for tomorrow to begin so I can attempt this thing all over again."

Lisa Ekanger Your Hometown Realtor!

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