This morning (well, actually it was noon) I sat in my backyard eating an atrociously late breakfast and enjoying the mild air and the birds and bright green of everything. Sometimes I think I might enjoy sleeping outside and waking up to that - there's something primordially therapeutic about Nature.
Last night I fell asleep on the couch and was awakened by a hug; Kevin had seen me asleep and came over to wake me so I could go to bed. Instead of saying "Natalie, it's time to go to bed" or shaking me or something, he instead sat by me on the couch and hugged me. I woke up with a flood or warmth all through my body. That's what Nature is like.
It got me thinking about being comfortable. And thinking about my house. I realized Kevin and I have lived in our house less than 5 months. We are by no means 'moved in' or 'settled', but that first unfamiliar rush and feeling of being in a new place and new walls and colors and the light coming in at different angles through all the windows...It's already slipping away. It doesn't take long, I thought, to lose that first love, that buzz of excitement over something new and ... exciting. It doesn't mean it is not exciting anymore: when I think about it, I'm still very excited and very very pleased to be in this home with my husband. But it doesn't feel quite so exhilarating anymore.
Got me wondering, too, how people can hop from relationship to relationship probably just looking for that feeling of newness again - something different - just to know it will be gone soon and they'll be off to the next better thing. Is it really better to feel that heady buzz or to simply be happy where you are and with whom you are? What's better? Truly, we can never be fully happy or constantly happy.
I'm not so sure that buzz is as good or as exciting and thrilling as I thought when I was younger. As a kid, you let movies and other people and your unstoppable imagination tell you what life is all about and it's thrilling - only for the fact you haven't actually experienced it yet. So ... maybe it's not that these new experiences are exciting, it's simply that they have been previously un-experienced and are therefore new and maybe just a little overwhelming.
I am happy in my house. It's not glamorous or even as nice as my friend's houses or that person's house across town. But it's my house that I share it with my family and I love it. It's beautiful to me. And even after 5 months - though it's not quite so exciting waking up and thinking every morning 'Wow, this is my house!' - it still is and I still love being here.
I've been married for nearly 6 years and I wouldn't think of dropping my relationship just because that first rush and blush and flurry are long gone. I adore my spouse and there is nothing and no one who can replace him - not even that intoxication of new attraction. I don't comprehend people who don't allow themselves to be content with the things they have (yes, allow; I believe it's within ourselves, not the circumstances around us, to be content). Of course, I want new and different things, too but ... isn't there a line to be drawn? Can't you want new things, like a throw pillow or Christmas ornament or bed sheets, without also feeling like you have to completely rework your life? Don't question those good and wonderful things - those big things that really matter.
All that to say, I'm thinking about contentedness and constancy and realizing how rare they both are. I'm realizing how vital it is to appreciate the small things - something I have observed for many many years in a select few people and I appreciate them so much for that example - and not sweat so much over your house or your husband or wife who isn't perfect. Love them. Love life. Be content. Everything will eventually let you down, at least a little, but that doesn't mean you can throw it away.
When I was pouring milk over my cereal this morning, I looked up and saw my Morning Glories were out again, in fuller bloom than last time and with more colors. It gives me a little jump-start every time I see them. I watch them for days and weeks, water them and guide their delicate, spindly vines around some posts so they can grow taller and then one day they have bloomed - almost random and most definitely unexpected.
Speaking of unexpected, the explosion of Spider Lilies in the yard has taken Kevin and me by complete surprise ... by wonderful surprise. I have never seen or grown them before and I love finding spots where they weren't growing 2 days ago, but where now I see a whole family of them. Such beautiful little samplings of Nature's ingenuity.
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| I spotted 5 blooms in all |
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| The white one is transparent |
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| A new family of Spider Lilies! |
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| The stalks are so strong, but the flowers are so light and delicate |
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| My patio |
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