So How Was Your Weekend?

Does anyone ever really answer that honestly?  Or does "good" pretty much sum it up?

Last we spoke, I was having trouble relaxing and enjoying what is.  I was facing 2 days of unplanned activities and I felt a bit panicky. I'm not used to having free time, between work, cooking, cleaning, child care and visiting the parental units. How did I handle it?  Well on Saturday I picked a fight with my husband.  It seems I can't leave well enough alone.

What was the fight about?  This time, work.  And about what would actually make me happy.  You see, I've been complaining about my work for as long as he's known me. He understands my frustration, as he has similarly banged his head against the wall with his photography.  I like to think we're both talented people who haven't caught a break.  His work is really stunning, actually.  I remember when we met he told me he was a photographer and I was a bit worried.  What if his stuff was terrible?  I'm not a good liar, what would I say then?  Fortunately that wasn't a problem.

So back to the fight.  I felt like he wasn't supporting my journey to be a happier person, to find out what worked for me, even if that meant doing things slightly differently, living in another city, or perhaps "downsizing" in a tradeoff for freedom.  I felt like fear was guiding his feelings and he was more worried about safety than my happiness.

But as is so often the case with James, the argument wasn't that simple.  What he was expressing was actually hitting very close to home - would changing the outside world somehow provide the magical answer I was looking for that would make me happy?  That really pissed me off.  And that's when I knew I'd better listen.

He pointed out the numerous things we had and that I had wished for in the past (a baby, then a healthy baby, then a new place, a bigger place, a nicer view, more money).  I had to admit that I had them all and yet here I was still reflecting on what wasn't good enough.  It makes him feel inadequate, because no matter what he does, he cannot fix this for me, or make me happy.

That really got me because it's not the first time I've heard it.  And I don't mean from him.

So, after a minor freak-out where I felt hurt and unsupported and angry, I had to admit he was right - I have a lot of trouble taking joy in the every day things that I have, in spite of how great they are.   I mean, if you'd told me 10 years ago that I'd have a doting husband who thought I was the greatest, a healthy baby girl, a lovely place to live and a job that pays as well as it does, I would have thought you were dreaming.  That it all happened, and I can't appreciate it, doesn't bode well for any future wishes unless I can get this sorted out.

I have to learn to enjoy what I already have.

But there was also a side of me that was thinking; just because I have trouble being happy doesn't mean I should just accept the things that aren't working in my life and wallpaper over them with some Jedi mind trick...  "That's not the life you're looking for."

The trick is, how do you stay happy in the present, while not losing site of what can and should be changed?  How can change be transformed from lack and "broken" to simply "different".

And if all it is, is different, is that worth doing at all?

M