This week's quote is:
"One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few."~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh ~
I guess this means that life cannot be all beauty and fun and greatness. That life is only beautiful because the crappy stuff makes what isn't crappy more wonderful. I guess that makes sense.
My weekend away was wonderful because I had no commitments, no real plans, nothing standing in my way. I was able to spend time with friends and family uninterupted and it was amazing.
Right now I am frustrated with work (to see why, read yesterday's entry) and all I really want to do it run away. I want to start over. Begin a new life with Bob somewhere else...anywhere else. What I really want to do is raise horses and use them to help kids in need of physical therapy. I want a half dozen dogs and a bunch of cats. I want land near water and a porch. I want hard physical labor and a soft hammock to nap in. I want sunrises and sunsets and a gigantic garden. All of these things would be the seashells on the shore of my life. Right now I feel as if I am drowning in the sea of responsibilities and I need to land on the beach. I keep treading water, but all I get is tired.
When we are in Florida, my favorite place to visit is not Disneyworld. I get excited for our visits to the ocean. I love the waves, the power, the vastness, the sounds, and I love collecting shells. I always walk the beaches in search of new, odd, and beautiful specimens of sea shells. I pick them up, wash them off and bring them home. I live in landlocked Minnesota. We don't have sea shells in Minnesota. The shells I bring home remind me of our trip and our time at the ocean. They still smell of salt and sand and wind and ocean. I love our shells. I am happy for the memories. Part of me wishes we lived at the ocean so we could smell the sea and hear it every day. But if we lived at the sea, it might not be as special to me as it is. I might come to take it for granted...or even worse, I might come to hate it. I might come to hate the salt that covers everything and the wetness that is forever warping. I might come to see the sea as something to dread. Something that annoys rather than something majestic and holy and grand.
I guess in the same way I cherish my memories of the good times. If everything was all good all the time, I would not look upon the good times as I do. I would not consider them fondly and with good will. They would just be there. Maybe some day I will look upon this difficult time with a certain type of fondness as well. Maybe one day I will look back on the changes this time brought about and the lessons I learned and will realize that I had to go through them in order to get to the next thing, the next level, the next "ocean of awe" for me. I sure hope so. I don't feel like collecting times like this. Not like I do the good times and the good memories. But without the tough times, I may not grow to appreciate the good times as I do.