Someone commented yesterday that I seemed happier than ever before and asked me what I had done or changed to achieve this state of mind. I said nothing, except digest a few realities. A spate of acceptance, if you will.
One reality that I've accepted is that I will never own a house. I mean my very own personal abode. Never. For the simple reason that I will never put in the number of work hours needed to earn enough to own one. My free time, my flexible work space, my nap time, my love for other things in life is just too strong to give up for joining the rat race. Also, I'm much too flighty and moody to sustain a a full-time job for long.
Am I thrilled that this is the way I am? Of course not. I wish I were as ambitious and full of energy as some of my friends who have established long-standing careers and have secured their and their families' lives. But I'm not. My work will remain sporadic, roller-coastery and ever-changing.
Am I scared about my future? I'm terrified! I'm 34, single, with no anchor or security. But I've decided to trust my future self to take care of my future when it gets here. For now, my present self is getting busy taking care of the present.
I'm also a person of love. That is and always will be my priority. I can try as hard as I want to be isolated and practical, but my smile only shines when I have love flowing through me -- giving and receiving.
Another realization is that there is immense power in loss. When you lose it all and still survive, you realize that you didn't need most of what you had. What you had and what you still have is you. Even though I will never have a house, I will always have me to make a home wherever I am.
And for now, that seems to be enough.
