I wonder, sometimes, if posting something totally boring and mundane is better than not posting anything at all. I have been all about shower curtains and book ends and throw pillows these days, and I don't have anything hugely significant to relate. So here are some odds and ends, or Petals on the Wind...(My tattered copy of which I totally found when I unpacked all of my books on Sunday afternoon, and yes, I absolutely thumbed through it to find the dirty parts. It was just as creepy yet titillating as I remembered.)
We watched the second-to-last episode of Lost last night, and OH MY GOD I TOTALLY GET IT NOW! I had a secret fear that the series would end, and I would be one of like three really stupid people in the country who had no freaking clue what the hell happened, what it all meant, and how it all ended, but I would be too embarrassed to admit it. I do get it now, and I appreciate it more than ever. If you haven't watched it, this might be considered a "spoiler," even though I may not be right. If you don't watch Lost at all, well, ignore this next paragraph.
Here's what I think: There will not need to be a New Jacob, because the Losties will work together to destroy the MIB, and then the light will stay protected as it is. Jack won't need to stay, Desmond won't need to stay (although I think if anyone does, it will be him. Jack just needed to be willing to stay.) These potentially good people who had lost their way in life and ended up on the island will have spent this journey redeeming the worst parts of themselves with the boldest, most courageous parts of themselves, and when the island ceases to be needed, they'll get back the best of what their lives could have been. Hugo will be rich AND philanthropic AND get to save his mother AND get the beautiful girl. Jack will be healthy AND get to have a relationship with his son. You get the idea. They will have learned from their mistakes, been better for them, redeemed themselves and ascended. And at the end of every episode, where the title bar "Lost" pops up, it should instead say, "Found."
And you know what? In a strange way, I'm relating to this right now. I feel like I made this conscious choice to re-boot some things in my life, to take it all up a notch, and it's totally working. I'm trying to be better in the world - a better wife and mother, a better teacher, a better friend, a better daughter - and good things keep on happening. I'm full of gratitude for these things. And through these things and my mindful examining of them, I'm becoming a different kind of "found."
This blog entry is the first thing I've ever written in my office, I just realized. In my Room of My Own. This room is one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given. Does that sound ridiculous? I know it's just a room. But...it's not. I feel like it's full of promise of more good things to come, more learning, more connection, more manifestations of big and small dreams. It's a great big "Toldjaso!" from the Universe. "If you visualize the what, I'll take care of the how," the Universe tells me in my message each day. Here is this morning's, also sent out to the bazillion other people who sign up for this website:
You know, Kelly, you have many gifts, extraordinary gifts. Gifts of perception, insight, and creativity. Gifts of preferences, leanings, and inclinations.
But there is one, ah yes, just one, that while often overlooked is the most sublime and profound of all, availing you of wonders beyond wonder, and the power to wonder some more. It is, of course, to think; to choose a focus; to see the world however you like... and live to see it so.
I mean, what else do you give someone who wants it all?
And on top of that, a person I adore and admire sent me a text this week that said, after reading my blog when she should have been studying, "You must be magical because your life is like a fairy tale." That was a very thrilling compliment for me. Is it vain to feel that way and post it? I don't even know, but it made me so incredibly happy. And it's because my life is NOT a fairy tale. Not even kind of. I have hurts and wounds and guilt and baggage and really serious flaws and some tremendously bad habits. But in spite of all of that, and in some ways, because of it, I have built a life that is rosy and fine. And happy. And if I can do it, anyone can. If I can get this house, my students can be a Broadway star or a veterinarian or the President, if she wants. I can tell them that because I know it's true. Totally know it.
So, my house is not just a "blessing from above," like Cinderella's ball gown or Alice's little "eat me" cake. It's taken work. So, yes, I know. We've busted our ass for 15 years to build up good karma. We were sensible (mostly) and fiscally responsible (pretty much) and determined (definitely) and that's why we got it. What's that facetious Thomas Jefferson quote about the relationship between luck and hard work? Something like, "It seems the harder I work, the more luck I have." The whole house is like that, in some ways I still have yet to explore. I feel lucky to have it, but I know that I worked hard to have it.
There are many rituals of this house still to go. I haven't saged it - partly because I haven't felt deeply compelled to...the work we were doing was cleansing it just as much. I haven't baked anything here, or used my crockpot, or hung all the pictures, or well...various other rituals, some of which will need to be saved till the kids are having a sleepover at Nana's. But I've done laundry here and eaten breakfast and set up my bookshelves EXACTLY the way I've planned and dreamed. I am home, now. I am a different kind of "found."
And rather than an ending of a story, I feel like it's the start of a whole new chapter.
Thanks for hanging out with me.