Wednesday
"When the battle's lost and won." Second Witch, Macbeth
So, oddly enough, this is one of my favorite photos from my wedding. The dress had only been decided on moments before this photo was taken. And of all the forced photo's my average photographer took on my wedding day, this one still captures the absolute beauty of this dress (and perhaps myself as well). (Note, this photo was taken the day after Thanksgiving, hours after bowling, beer, and fries, and hours before second Thanksgiving dinner, I should not think myself so pretty in the photo, but if I'm honest, it's one of very few photos of myself I actually like).
I'm writing about this because I find myself in that funny place I mentioned last week. Finding peace in a life that feels slightly unbalanced. Ten minutes ago, I was working on my job search! I've been at the same job for 10 years, almost 11, closer to 11, le sigh. I feel like I missed my chance at growth by staying stagnant for as long as I did and now I'm both over-qualified and under-qualified to make the next leap. The only real option is a new career, but what would that new career even look like? (I"ll save that for another post.) My life exists at a fixed income that doesn't allow me to earn a penny less than I do at the current moment. When people tell you to explore while your young, why does it have to take becoming old to understand what that actually means?
It's like this photo. All the glory of the wedding day lives in anticipation and dreamy visions that began with this very dress. So many people told me to follow my instincts and make sure I had an amazing photographer, so I did what I always do, I didn't listen. I mean, I heard them. I understood the advice. In fact, I whole-heartedly agreed with the advice, and yet, when push came to photography ... I goofed it up.
This post isn't going to be all "I suck" though. There is a lesson here. And the lesson is this.
We hear advice. We accept advice. We follow advice. And yet, just like Macbeth, in our urgency to heed great advice (or prophecies), we fulfill our destinies ... sometimes failing the advice and other times nailing the advice. Clearly Shakespeare understood this.
We cannot be saved from our future mistakes, we can only grow from them, and truly allow them to guide us to our next future mistake, which may not be a mistake at all.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017, 11.04pm
Saturday
A lot has happened since I last uploaded to this blog. About 9 months ago, my on-again/off-again insomnia came back into my life. It wasn't the pregnancy, this photo is just over 3 years old. It wasn't a crying baby, that baby is now 3 years old and sleeps through the night ... it was home-ownership, and all the uncertainties that come with it. And since then, I've been watching myself, wake myself, torment myself, into a worry state of mind that keeps me up in my middle-of-the-night!
Last night during one of these bouts, wishing I had an outlet, something to do if all my sleep-tricks were to fail me, I remembered this blog. It literally drifted into my stream-of-consciousness like an echo from a previous life. I couldn't even remember what it was called or how I would find it. But just like riding a bike, everything, randomly, came back to me, and here I am: posting: with words.
My world has never been more vulnerable than it is at this moment. I have planted roots for the first time in my life, I'm raising a daughter, while trying to maintain some kind of romantic relationship with my husband, I'm befriending my neighbors, I'm building a community. I'm trying to be a good daughter. Be a good friend. Be good to myself. Be nice to everyone, even the slow walkers, the people on the Path train who won't move in, the litterers, the aggressive drivers, the meek drivers, the three year old who won't wear new clothes, the husband who won't neatly put away his shoes, the self (me), who, at 3am, keeps reminding the self (me) of all the things in life that aren't going her way (but never all the things in her life that are going her way, odd right?).
I have a lot to say. But, for now, at 12.32am, on a Friday night, I know the morning will come quick and the day will be full.
I have scratched an itch, and perhaps tonight, I will sleep through till morning.
October 7, 2017
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