When You Look Through the Years and See What You Could Have Been

Chicken in mushroom, dried tomato Cream Sauce with Kale

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I'm lucky in that I still enjoy really small things and I count them as actually living my life.  Come to think of it, I have put zero expectations on actual monetary achievements.  In the last years I've been cramming to be a nicer person and that has really taken most of my effort. It's not easy.  Like making an omelette.  You think it's simple until you try to make a perfect one.  Try to get through a full day without being a bit of an asshole.  The rest of the man-made measurements of success I've fallen a bit short.  I was riding my bike last night and finally realized that normal people plan their futures so that it yields more long term, on-going happiness. I finally saw the connection between goals and freedom.  Of course no one is guaranteed any good times but me thinks that living in complete randomness was not the best way to go. There is no cohesive strategy towards prosperity.  I probably wouldn't recommend my method.  Calling it a method is a stretch actually.

Earlier on I was just mainly trying to keep afloat.  Stay living.  Sure I wanted to do meaningful work but had no clue as to what that could be or look like. The closest thing I could figure was to find a way to love something they will pay you for.  Education and career was never the focus in my upbringing, nor was it any priority of mine.  Then, dreams, for me was like playing the lottery or something from a movie.  Other people realized dreams.  I had silly, frivolous, short-sighted dreams that thank God did not come to fruition. But mainly we were practical people that weren't encouraged to strive big.  If we worked hard, we could maintain.   

I say that but my father and mother and their parents were way more brave and bold.  I saw my dad have a dream in his head and then practically give birth to it right at our dinner table. As a child I remember him discussing it, planning it, visualizing it and then finally quitting his job. Then, along with my mother's sweat and guts, making it happen.  I felt I helped if only from a young girl's encouraging, excitable nods and wide attentive eyes.  Listening to my dad, plotting to end repression by the man.  Fucking the system.  He was to be a superintendent at Hagerman Construction but he explained to me that unless you were at the very top, every step up that ladder just lead you to more work and more bosses.  He didn't want to be managed by anyone.  I share that sentiment.  I was so impressed and will never forget the respect I had for my dad as a human on this planet watching this process.  Somehow though, that felt so far removed from my own abilities.  It wasn't my mom's dream.  She wasn't fired up about it.  She would assist in his happiness.  She could have reveled in the spotlight too but had no interest.

So I think this lack of wow factor and the confusion in my own life in regards to a career may come down to the fact that my dad was awesome in realizing his fantasy but my mother was a major rock star in giving the finger to any accolades to her gifts entirely.  She didn't give to get anything in return.  That's Buddha-like! She just cooked incredibly well and shared it without any reward, almost literally.  She barely got paid.  They both showed life success painted entirely different.