Another "aha!" moment

A new friend stopped in last night on her way to her get-away home here in Michigan. It was a lovely spring evening - warm enough to sit on the deck for a while - and we chatted about this and that as the work week came to a close and the sun went down.

One of the topics touched on was my interest in a small house in my friend's town. I'd looked at it months back because I was itchy again to move to what was more in line with the "there" I was looking for nearly seven years ago when I left the Chicago area. A place where I would fit, feel at home and bloom. But decided not to risk trying to sell my current loft in a down market. Prudent, I told myself. About six weeks ago I heard it had been offered for short sale. Too bad, I thought, the owners must really be in trouble. Maybe I could afford it now, but no, can't own two homes. Not prudent. Then just last weekend, I was driving by the house and saw something posted on the front door. I pulled in the driveway and walked up to the door. A foreclosure notice; the home was now a HUD property. Wow, I thought, that's really too bad. Those owners must be in a world of hurt. And again the little voice said, I'll bet this place is really cheap now! But no, not prudent. Owning two homes is crazy when you are consciously choosing a very limited income way to live. Crazy, stop thinking about it.

Back to the conversation...my friend said she  hoped she didn't offend me and that while she loved my current home (this was her first visit), she really saw me in the other house. Said it suited me; that she saw me there. I quickly countered that while it was a lovely home and certainly the land had been a dream I'd held, that when I saw myself there I saw myself as 30 years old, but that sadly I'm not going to turn 30 my next birthday, but something that is a  multiple of it. That a house requires much more work than a condo. And while these words were coming out of my mouth, I realized that what I was really saying had nothing to do with money directly. It had everything to do with a way of thinking that was limiting me. A way of thinking that limited my parents and kept them from doing things they wanted to when they could have. Not wildly reckless things, but things that would have made them smile and given them memories. Like my father taking a job in Chicago when his company wanted to transfer him (he ended up in the same job, hating it his entire career) or the family taking vacations (we took one vacation while I was a child and I  know my mother had traveled a great deal before she married my father.) Of course, my parents smiled and had memories, but you know what I mean....I'm talking about their foregoing what someone recently called "re-liveable moments". And here I was, thinking I was being financially prudent when I was avoiding something that might be just such a reliveable moment. How smart was that? How often had I misunderstood my own intentions and limited myself unnecessarily?

I'm once again reminded that blooming where you are planted is not only about a place. You can be planted in a mindset too. And like any garden, a mindset needs tending too. I need to do a bit more weeding, to clear out misperceptions that are holding me back. And I need to enrich my mind garden with some ideas or dreams. Rather than focus unnecessarily on limits and what isn't possible, as my friend said describing her own life, my "aha" was that I need to "figure it out" as I go; not live tomorrow today or get stuck in yesterday. Yes, I am getting older, but I'm not "older" yet. Blooming where I'm planted means I need to correct mistakes, celebrate successes and smile and remember how I did both...

Bring Back Special (or keep it where it exists...)

It's occurred to me more than once that I miss the sense of something being "special" that I grew up with. That thing or experience that was only available infrequently and whose appearance would create excitement. And the anticipation of it's arrival was almost as pleasant as the thing or experience itself. In my family one such special thing was Coke and 7-Up.

Suppliers or vendors to my the company where my father worked as a bookkeeper would send holiday gifts to him. I suppose it was to thank him for sending their checks promptly. I never really thought about why he would bring home the gifts. There were hams and towels (yes, bath towel sets) and more. But the one I appreciated the most was the company that sent a case of 12 oz bottles (green glass of course) of Coca-Cola and another case of 7-Up. These were as sure a sign of the Christmas season as the lights on the street or the tree in the living room. 

Once a year I indulged in drinking soft drinks that were never in the house other times. Or if they were I didn't know about it. Having a glass of Coke was as much a treat as opening gifts on Christmas eve. I would open bottles for my parents to pour glasses for the aunts and uncles who visited then but not during the year. Or to add to the occasional mixed drink that called for them. And my mother would make a wonderful 7-Up cake. The cases of Coke and 7-Up meant that visits were coming; that a turkey dinner wasn't far off and that the year was coming to a close. All these special memories just from two cases of soft drinks. The gifts went on until he retired...more than 15 years that I remember and possibly longer. 

Today I can have a Coke whenever I want. Wherever I want. It's nothing special. And more's the pity. Few things seem to really be special in a world of worldwide brands and franchises. Of sameness and uniformity. Maybe that's why the idea of maintaining the unique character of this place where I've elected to plant myself is so much a part of my thinking. Keeping the specialness of this "here" and not looking to yet another "there". I do worry though. It seems that to many people it is comforting to see the same things no matter where they go. And putting them in special places when they are not there....so that the place becomes nothing special. 

Bajiggity?

I guess it's important to explain a bit about the blog's name and reason for being. So here goes.

I'm a dreamer and someone whose life - from the perspective of the viewer who isn't me - has looked pretty satisfactory over all. I've enjoyed a good education, good, progressively responsible jobs, owned my own home, not been overwhelmed by debt, traveled some and pretty much been able to do what I wanted to. Yet, I've never been satisfied.

I've always looked for the perfect in myself and the situations in which I found myself. Not to mention in others. And one day I realized that always looking for the perfect made me miss out on enjoying the good. My never satisfied; next idea/relationship, please; happy = future; gotta have it the way I dreamed it way of life left me, well, bajiggity. Kind of antsy and anxious to be done with now to move on to tomorrow which undoubtedly would be better, happier, and more in keeping with my dreams. I remember as a child my mother telling me not to wish my life away. Well, that lesson took a long time to sink in.

So while I can't be anyone other than who I am - someone interested in all kinds of things and always seeing possibilities - I'm trying really hard to focus on the moment and what it offers. And take a deep dive into the few things that have stayed priorities with me over the years. Things like enjoying a conversation with friends, a shared meal, a sunset, a good book or just the fact that I'm here to think about all those things. And one more thing that stayed with me despite the years I spent full tilt running from it: my midwest roots. With all that freedom I could have lived anywhere, but never left the mid-est of the midwest - Indiana, Illinois and now, Michigan.

So the best I can explain it is that this blog is about the joy of being who I am, being where I belong and doing things that make me happy. And walking away from a bajiggity life.