Sometimes I sit in my house and look around and just think if only that wall was painted. If my floors were actually finished. If I could see what I was cooking on the stove, but the (no light) old fan looms so low overhead that I can’t very well and pictures are always out of the question. If only my chairs were nicely painted and I had a cover for that ugly pink couch. Oh and that the old china cabinet, why does it exist at all? And that my windows would magically be finished so I get blinds, so I could remove those sheets. And that my sliding door was fixed or at least that I could purchase a new blind so whenever I’m home during the daylight (once every month) I could open it and enjoy the sunshine for a moment. For once it would be nice to come home to a completely finished house, one that didn’t look half put together. I mean I look at my table for instance, that cloth covering it looks like something straight from a flea market (and not in a good way)….why is it on there in the first place, I hardly even sit there to eat. I normally eat on the run…plate on sink while I put my makeup on in the morning and for dinner I’m so tired if I eat it’s normally swallowed on the couch. Oh and I wish i had time to actually enjoy cooking. And to take decent pictures of things I bake, to share on here…it’s so dark by the time I actually get in the kitchen that it’s out of the question. Also I’m not going to mention all the wonderful creations that I’ve burnt because I feel asleep. Well oops I guess I just did didn’t I?!?!?
Well the other night when I should have been sleeping all
these thoughts were running through my head and then all of a sudden I realized.
I’m focusing on what I don’t have instead of what I do. I owe 4.5 acres of
sunshine (and mud at the moment=) it’s mine. I’m free!!!! No one tells me what
I can’t have or do here…my childhood dreams are coming true. I bought a pig to
butcher, I’m going to process my own pork!!!…something I’ve wanted to do since
reading Laura Ingalls. Life isn’t about the stuff we own or have. Life is about
others and we can only enjoy it if we choose to. Life is a gift from God and
the only kind of gifts I’ve ever received we’re meant to be enjoyed. It’s about
taking time to sit in my horses stall and talk to him instead of hauling that
one last load of firewood. I seem to not
do the things I enjoy most because I feel guilty afterwards…but that shouldn’t
be that way. Life is meant to be enjoyed. So once I get this concept down pat and
have finally incorporated it into my workaholic mind/life, y’all will be
the first to know=)
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