My life is beautiful. No. It's beyond beautiful. My daughter is yelling and chattering from the next room. She's learning what her voice can do besides make Mommy giggle at the little chuckles and gurgles that flow forth. My wonderful and amazing husband is on his way home from work so that I can go to worship practice at a church that we love and that loves us back. I have a warm house and a flexible job that allows me to be home with my gurggler and a car that takes me where I need to go and where I don't need to go. My family loves me. I have more friends than I realize. My life is beautiful.
And yet . . .
Why am I so dissatisfied all the time? Do I want something more because the almighty society tells me I want more? Or do I really and honestly want more? Is my longing because I dislike where I am? Or is it because I know I'm not where I'll end up?
I've been mentoring Nicki again lately. She's lost, and so she approached me to help her find direction. As if I have any myself! And yet, miraculously, she found it. Sort of. She figured out who she is, and she realized that she doesn't need to know anything more than that. She claims that I taught it to her, but I figure that you can't teach what you don't know, so she got it from somewhere else. I just feel so out of place all the time, and I don't know where I fit. So I know it wasn't me who taught her how to see beyond what she wants to be or even what she sees herself as so that she can grab hold of who she is. It couldn't have been me.
You may say that I'm a dreamer, and I hope I'm not the only one. But it often feels like I am. Like everyone else is happy trudging along in their comfortable lives, while I'm straining against the ropes, eager to move on. I'm more than this. I'm more than Grand Rapids. I'm more than sitting at this desk, pouring my thoughts out through my fingertips. I have to be. Because this beautiful life isn't enough for me. I'm not satisfied with it. And I don't want to feel like I have to be.
I want Ellie to know that before she knew me, I was a fairy princess. I caught frogs and called them prince and made myself a queen and travelled around the world and slept in castles and fell in love because I was taught to dream. I caught fireflies and knew, just knew, that they were really Tinkerbell, trapped in my jar, eager to sprinkle fairy dust on me so I could fly. And that's a good thing.
