Pioneering

I don’t know how often this happens to you, but several days ago I found myself doing that thing where I wonder when life is going to stop throwing another curve ball.

It’s like I have a senior moment and my pre-frontal cortex rewinds to adolescence.

I don’t want to remember “the gray” of adulthood ….or “holding the tension of both/and” when it comes to dealing with the day in and day out.

I’ve got one finger stuck in each ear singing “La, La, La, blah, blah, blah—please shut it with your high falutin’ mature perspective.”

Because I want the scene from Stargate. I want to step through a threshold from one dimension into another and look around with awe saying “Yesssssssss. Exxxactly. My life is here because THIS (better) world was the new frontier.”

And no, I’m not talking about Heaven.

I mean now. On earth. In this lifetime.

Where all the craziness falls into place and life is experienced without a (couldn’t see that one coming) situation blinding siding your Wednesday morning.

I want three days, at a minimum, of life protected from an intrusive mosquito of a circumstance.

I know… Mommy’s immature magical thinking happened again.

Sedona-Grace says “Knock, knock. WAKE UP.”

Thankfully these mental road trips don’t last too long because 1) I can’t leave my daughter unsupervised for that long and 2) it’s foolishness.

I can’t speak for your situation but I accept that I’m  a geriatric single mom of a five year old daughter who’s ten times smarter than me with an energy level that puts my ancient self to shame.

And my “Arrival” to the “Right and Good Life” I needed to choose does (and will continue to) include toilets overflowing or a 2.5 inch screw in the wrong place of a brand new tire.

Because Pioneering towards “Healing, Peace and Contentment” on this side of Mother Earth will require responding to a washing machine that sounds like an old motorcycle revving up in your basement while Sedona-Grace is making “happy water art” all over the bathroom floor…and the only clean leggings I can find to put on, while racing up and down the stairs, are these bright yellow ones found at a garage sale that literally make me look like a big banana.

Oh. Well. A part of me thinks it’s pretty funny.

YELLOW leggings?

But that’s me and life with my girl: Gorgeous wildflowers, fierce hugs, chronic lower back pain and stunning views.

We are joyful, we are resilient and we are on our way.

If you can’t make it better, you can laugh at it.
― Erma Bombeck

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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