So, like every fifteen year old girl (right?) I had a dream list for my life. I also wrote a letter to my future husband to be opened on our wedding day. . . did anyone else do that? Okay, and yes I also wrote a letter to New Kids on the Block--adding a separate note to Joey individually telling him that he was my favorite but swearing him to secrecy not to tell that to the other boys because I wouldn't want to be all Ono and break up the band with fights for my affection. Deep breath. I feel so much better now. Glad that is out there.
My dream list:
-go to BYU (check--but changed to SVC. . which changed my life)
-be an EFY counselor (check)
-get married (check)
-be a published author (kind of? I did win a recipe contest and got my hummus veggie pizza posted in the Lowe's circular)
-be on Broadway (okay, I'm kind of letting that dream go. It is for the better, but I do sing broadway tunes every day to my children. . check)
-be really happy (well, that one wasn't on my list, but that is kind of the point isn't it?)
Let's talk about that last one. Be really happy. Of all the dreams we map and plan, isn't that one at the top, even if it isn't written there? Maybe I should have put it first, so that I would realize that day to day, year to year, dreams shift. Other people enter our lives with needs and hopes that we never factored in when we were fifteen years old. We have kids. We have heartbreak. We have moments of realization that completely blindside us. But, what it all shakes down to is that we want to be happy. I've kind of forgotten that.
One of my favorite novels ever is Middlemarch by George Eliot. I think the whole beast of a novel is about one thing: Ideals and Their Dangers. There are three main love stories in this novel and two of them get pretty twisted and painful because the characters won't release what they belive they should want, should love, should strive for. They are intent upon what they think they should be instead of just being. We do that. I do anyway. I used to be alot of things. And I used to have alot of dreams. But, the day to day has sort of swallowed them. And my ideas? They sometimes take the shape of a 2X4 with which to beat myself for falling short. What a waste. I think that I need to get back in touch with that fifteen year old girl who made a list, wrote notes to boy bands, and went barefoot at school. It is time for a new dream list. And it is time to relinquish the ideal person/mother/wife that I think I should be and realize that the greatest gift I can give my family is a person/mother/wife that is sublimely happy in that moment, pursuing her dreams, supporting them in theirs, and in all ways living one moment at a time, determined to enjoy it.
Maybe I should write Joey Joe again. He is probably wondering why he hasn't heard from me. I hope he isn't too mad at me for getting married.