I blogged a couple months ago about the death of my optimism. I should have known myself well enough to recognize that like Jesus, Superman, and most soap opera characters, my optimism would not stay dead for long. It's too intrinsic a part of who I am. Next to me, Little Orphan Annie is jaded.
I've said before that I was unhappy in my marriage, but this is inaccurate. I was happy much of the time; the unease I felt was not a lack of happiness but a lack of peace. I was not at peace with who I was and where I was at in life because I couldn't accept the reality of my life. When we don't accept the present reality we fight it, and it's hard to be at peace when you're fighting reality. (It's also hard to win that particular battle.)
Over the last few months I've gained a sense of peace, not so much because of my change in life circumstances as because of a change in perspective that came through help from Therapist, through some spiritual experiences I've had, and through my mind's natural propensity to find wholeness. Therapist says that it's the nature of the human mind to heal itself if we just let it, and I tend to agree with him. This healthy state of mind and the peace that comes with it are not dependent on any external conditions. Over the past couple weeks I've been struggling with some very difficult questions about who I am and what I want out of life, the kind of questions that not too long ago led me to an anxiety attack, and in the midst of all this I've been calmer and more content with my present life--unanswered questions and all--than I had been in a long time. With this newfound peace has come a renewed sense of optimism, hope, and faith.
In religious contexts hope and faith are often lumped together, and I see why--the two often work together hand in hand. I have hope for FoxyJ's future because I have faith in her ability to do hard things, and finding peace when life throws huge obstacles in your way is one of the hardest things to do. I have hope for our children's future because I have faith in their resilience and in Foxy's and my love for them. I have hope for my future because I have faith in my ability to find peace regardless of my life circumstances. This faith is not based in wishful thinking, but in experience. I know that I and the people I care about (and even the people I don't care about) will be just fine, no matter what happens, because that has been my experience in life thus far.
So if you've come here looking for angst and suffering, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. It's all flowers and sunshine here, baby. And avocados. Lots of avocados.
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5 comments:
You and your avocados . . .
But I don't like avacados.
Yay, avocados! Well, avocados and sunshine, of course. :D
You and your mom's avocados . . .
Hey, just WHERE are MY avacados?
Glad things are looking up for you.
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