So I'm cruising down the street, listening to The Cars as loud as it takes for other cars' noise to just barely breeze through, watching Molly jam in my passenger seat, windows down, arm hanging out, laughing as hard as I can without closing my eyes cause I'm driving, and I think to myself, at whichever point in my life I thought I was the happiest I would ever be
Sunday, August 21, 2011
I was wrong.
And I realize that I'm experiencing the joy of the Lord, but in a more subtle, nondescript way, because from nowhere else does the fusion of uncertainty and fragility yield contentment and peace. Perhaps a year or two ago I would have said the same thing, but, luckily for me, I didn't really know what I was talking about. And a year or two from now, I'll realize that I didn't know what I was talking about on this August day, but maybe not, cause I get the feeling I'm on the steepest part of the learning curve, at least when it comes to self awareness. A psychic self-awareness-grapher might tell you that the long years ahead of me maintain a steady incline, but not with the slope I experienced back in the transition to my third decade.
I am learning the value of alone time, the value of family, the value of spontaneity, the value of compassion, the value of mercy, heck, the value of hydration, though we all wish that band camp had provided such info. And I'm choosing more carefully who I let peek at my graph. I'd saved front row seats for some who opted not to take them, and against all self-expectations, I'm happy to leave them empty. I am learning the value of surprising myself.