as i'm sitting here, scanning blogs of single, adorable and sickly stylish young women my own age, whose days are full of sunset picnics and late night coffee cafes, trips to europe and thrift store finds and flirting and lipstick and beaches and spontaneity and carelessness... i wonder what life would be like if i wasn't a wife. if i wasn't a mama. i confided in my best friend the other day telling her this, telling her something i hadn't told anyone before - that maybe i jumped too fast. maybe i was too anxious to see this fairy tale world of love, hand holding, dinners and movies, security in another person, someone to fall back on. this fairy tale world of coos and smiles, chubby thighs, cute printed onesies, lullabies and tender moments, and watching someone [who is a part of me] enjoying all the things that i once enjoyed - creek splashing, finger painting, leaf gathering, discovering.
[i don't regret. i simply wonder.]
i've always been great at two things - dwelling in the past, and looking to the future. usually, i'm hardly in the present. this is a great, deep flaw of mine. as i'm living, i'm looking at every time except my own. i also have this fault of looking at every life except my own. i complain. i wonder. i dream. not in a good way. i think, what if. i think, if only. i think, i wish. i think, i'll never.
have you ever heard of this method to keep your complaints under control? you wear a bracelet on one arm, and try to keep it there the entire day, because for every time you complain, you must switch wrists. well, i know mine would get switched every few minutes. i probably wouldn't make it a whole hour.
have you ever heard of the verse that says the tongue is fire, that it has the power of life and death? i know my tongue is sharp and wild and unbridled at times. makes me wonder how often my words bring life, and how often they bring death.
have you ever heard of the rice experiment by masaru emoto? you fill two jars with cooked rice, close them tightly, and place them in equally controlled environments. then for an entire month, to one jar, you try to radiate love, kind words, and positivity. to the other jar, the opposite - hate, negativity, bad vibes. by the end of the month, the "love" jar is just as white and fluffy as the day it was closed up, while the "hate" jar is molded and disgusting.
no. freaking. joke.
i've been thinking this a lot lately, because of my river - he is with me nearly 24/7, hearing my every word, hearing my every tone, absorbing my spirit, my energy ... am i going to be living my days of what ifs, complaints, and negativity? do i really want him to be surrounded by that?
i want to be a love jar. i've got to start working on being a love jar.