somewhere else


sometimes, as a self-employed woman living in an unfinished barn in a small town, it's hard to wake up and face the day.  since every day is of my own design, sometimes it is difficult to see what to do, and in what order.  it's hard to make a list, or to prioritize, because there are always just so many pressing things knocking down the door. i need an army. and it is also hard to know what to want out of life, or what direction to go.  my problem, today and many other days, is that i want something i don't have, can't have, is unattainable in any immediate sense, and is unrealistic. because of this, i can't see the good honest beauty inherent in my own current situation.  which is an automatic setup for disappointment, and disaster.  today, more than anything, i wanted a clean two story craftsman cottage with push button heat.  i wanted to wake up, look out the window at the morning on an open field filled with birds, and slide across the slick polished wood floors in my socks.  i wanted to take a bath, a long hot bath in my cast iron claw-foot bathtub, for the gnarly cold i've been fighting going on two weeks.  nope.  not me, not today.

it is hard to be me, sure.  i don't have a bathtub.  but i am lucky.  and i have to keep remembering that.  because for every time i wish i were somewhere else, odds are someone is wishing they were in my shoes too.

1 comment:

  1. i'm with you all the way down this river and back 500 times. or more.