This morning we strolled down wide streets with the occasional detour down roads narrowed by blooming hydrangea and drooping tree branches. Light poured through leaves, across porches and hopscotched sidewalks.
As we walked, I wondered if anyone else entertains a recurring mirage.
Do you hold an image in front of you as if it is truth only to keep finding it's an illusion?
I definitely do. My illusion, which is always just in front of me-- ooooh so close I can almost touch it-- is that there will come a time when I won't have projects percolating. And by projects, I don't mean clean the refrigerator or get new dog collars. No, I mean the big, exciting, bells ringing, stress building projects that never seem to go away.
It has been this way my entire life-- dating back to high school-- and I think it's about time I lost the illusion that it will ever be otherwise. Apparently, something about the way I am calibrated means I am always launching new ideas and deciding now is a good time to make shit happen. Always. It never ends.
I always think it's going to end. I always tell myself 'just around the bend-- one more curve and all those projects are behind you.' Or, something like that. Some steady chatter that there is a "life" ahead of me where I wake each morning, stretch languorously and think hmmm, another wide open day-- shall I have pink lemonade or peach iced tea today?
Thing is-- my days are wide open and hell if I don't populate them with one good idea after the next. They are all good ideas-- all projects I very much want done, projects that I very much enjoy the process of (well, except for my issues around stress, fear, and whatnot)-- but damn, woman. Can we let the absurd illusion go?
Time for me to change the outlook and accept that there will always be something cooking.
How about you? Do you sustain your mirages long after you have recognized them as so much ephemera? Do mirages serve a purpose that I don't know about?
Back on the ground-- for those of you who want to know how the dogs are doing--
behold the smiling pups.
And? The really happy face? When I tell Daisy we're going to the Farmer's Market today?
HENRY: Girl makes me hurl with her enthusiasm.