Every now and again, a mama’s gotta leave her nest for just a moment in time to experience the world out there. I like my nest, I like my groove, but sometimes I catch myself remembering a time when I was able to be a little more spontaneous. Although last night’s adventure didn’t require any spontaneity, it did call for my adventurous spirit. Big Brother Enee was gifted some concert tickets for Christmas and the time had come to cash em in, so as soon as Papa Bear made it home from work, we grabbed our things, well actually we all ran around the house looking for the van keys, grabbed the tickets, thanks to Big Brother’s reminder, and off we went. Together, Enee and I crossed empty fields (in a car on the highway) we fought through throngs of savage beasts (crazy concert goers) and we even made it through the big test (metal detector and purse check) before we climbed the mountain (of stairs) and were handed our even better tickets than we had purchased(yay!). So back down we went in search for our seats; we only guessed wrong once, but it earned us an escort in the right direction. It may be a small feat for some, but for this mama, it was a change from tending the garden and dressing children for bedtime. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve lived in many cities, I’ve walked through many crowds, but ultimately, I’ve decided that life wasn’t for me. This time though, I was surprised; heading back awakened something in me. Sometimes my youth has a way of taunting me with her memories, making me reevaluate where I am. Making me ask myself if there should be…more.
The show was incredible, much more than I had expected it to be. Basically, One Republic nailed it. An evening spent watching someone work their craft, wrap an entire audience around their finger, leave it all on stage, is inspirational. I can relate, being a performer, myself, it ignited something in me that I’ve suppressed for long enough to almost forget it existed.
I love my life. So I feel trepidatious about changing its elements. It can be easy to think there is something wrong me, that I must be strange for loving everything the way it is, how it’s evolving. There was a time when I felt saturated by the ‘be better, achieve more, work towards bigger goals and keep going!’ (insert cheer pom poms) message when all I wanted to do was learn to slow down, see the world through my own eyes and the eyes of my children, and be happy, despite the negative feedback. I have found that place of contentment, and I’ve been living here for close to eight years now. Part of what equates this happiness is that I just like what I have. There are not a great many things that I want for. Sometimes I think it would be nice to own our home, be able to travel, worry less about money, but all of these things come with a price. Owning a home is rare, since most people actually just own a mortgage, and of course, there will still be repairs and other things that spell financial burden, not to mention the trend of selling to buy bigger and so on. It would be nice to travel more, but I do consider our earthly footprint. Hopping on a jet plane does seem to contradict that entirely, not that I’m completely against it, but I do tend to spot hypocrisy (mostly my own) rather easily. It’s both a blessing and a curse. Finally, if we had more money, we’d just spend more; we’d owe more, and I can imagine that our lifestyle wouldn’t be as together and as simple as it is now. We would look outwards more often, making purchases to fill the hole that our once togetherness had filled. There is a happy balance somewhere between all of this, and I know it must differ for every family.
But what I’m getting to in all this babble is this : where do the wants stop? At what point will the rock star decide that he’s reached his goal? And what is the cost of the time he has missed at home? At what point does the business woman believe that her work is done, and she can enjoy what is in front of her? At what point am I supposed to want something more, and how will I know when I’ve had enough of it? Change is inevitable; evolution is essential, but constantly upgrading seems empty. Maybe ‘more’ is just that something that we are looking at from the shoreline, it, bobbing along, a speck with a shiny sail, far off in the distant waters. No matter how quickly we swim towards it, it is always just as far away as it was while we stood on that beautiful beach. Yes, it was beautiful; we just couldn’t see it since we were too busy searching for more. Keep growing; don’t be stagnant, we’ll tell ourselves. Or we might just look around and feel content with where we are…
That beach? That place of contentment? It’s where the real growth happens–within ourselves.
(caught the show through my own eyes, not my camera lens this time, so the flowers will have to cut it. This was our garden last fall)