I was going to apologize for such a downer post last time, but I'm not going to. It's normal to have a bad day now and again, and I think our society places far too much value on being happy all the time. Instead, I would like to thank you for hanging in there with me as I go through this journey!
It was my morning cup of coffee that changed my whole perspective.
I've been going through this inner turmoil of sorts for awhile now. Itchy to find my next challenge. Worried that I'm not currently climbing any great corporate ladders. Realizing that time with Eden is my most precious commodity, and realizing that the cost of these other endeavors will ultimately lead to leaving her more.
Somehow, I had this grandiose picture in my head of what our lives would look like: I'd be making a six figure salary within the next 10 years. Nate would only have to work if he wanted to. We'd send Eden to a private school. We'd buy a house and rent out the condo. I'd be the best at what I do and a lot of people would hold me in high esteem.
But my heart was pained because, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fit Eden into that picture. Not the way I wanted to. Not the way I want to be her mom. Not any way that seemed best for her.
Yesterday, I took a mug of coffee in the car with me on my way to work.
Coffee in a mug makes a car smell a certain way, much different than coffee in a travel mug. Don't you think? I do. And I was instantly taken back 20 years to fifth grade, when my dad would drive me to school, he sipping coffee from his wide-base ceramic travel mug, and me sitting next to him on the pickup's bench seat and thinking what an important man he must be, all dressed up in his suit and tie.
He died when I was 11, and a lot of people seemed to notice. He got a big obit in the paper. A ton of people sent my mom cards. Former President Jimmy Carter sent my mom a signed note of his condolences.
But my father was not a big man. He worked hard to make enough money for us to get by, but we certainly weren't rich. He worked mediocre construction jobs then put himself through training to be a mediocre real estate appraiser. Not that he was mediocre, but he just held middle-of the-road, commonplace jobs. He was no CEO. He didn't have a staff of hundreds, or even twenty.
What my dad did do, was give. He gave every chance he got. He gave of his time, his talent, and his treasure, to the church, to his community, to his friends, and to his family. Right before he died he spent a week managing operations for a Jimmy Carter Habitat for Humanity rebuild project just across the border in Tijuana, Mexico.
One whiff of that coffee and it struck me: I've already made it.
I have a great relationship with my husband. We have a wonderful daughter. I have a good job with excellent benefits and I enjoy the work I do. We have a small but very comfortable home in a condo complex with wonderful neighbors. We don't have a lot, but we have enough to save some and enough to give some away. When Nate graduates this Spring we will both have master's degrees. And, most likely, if we are smart about our money we will be able to finagle sending Eden to private school. Compared to the vast majority of our planet, we are rich beyond belief.
I realized that this is it. Or, that this is enough. That if I just do this for the rest of my life, that is okay. I don't need to run a company or hold an office to make a difference in the world. I can do that by volunteering, by giving, by looking out for small opportunities to make someone's life better today. In fact, I'd posit that someone in my position actually has a greater capacity to truly change the world than someone whose time is all wrapped up in the politics of running a company. (No offense to any executives out there. Not having walked in your shoes, I could be completely wrong.) Who knows, maybe those other things will come along some day, but if they do they will have to be the right fit. And if they are, then it is meant to be.
I feel sorta disgusted with myself that I let my vision get so far off track of who I really am. But, I can tell you, I felt worlds better unlocking my office this morning, at peace with myself and my lot and looking forward to discovering my next opportunity to make the world a better place. Oddly enough, I felt important again.
I think my dad would be proud of that.
2 comments:
I can't say anything better than what you just said... so I'll just say... Yes.
Wow, that's wonderful Molly! I sort of feel the same way, like I have arrived. I still have lots of goals and would like to move into a bigger house on a bit of land someday, and I hope to have my name known in either the world or writing or the world of photography (I'd settle for either one), but I don't need those things. I have everything I need right now. Anything else would just be icing on the cake.
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