I got an email the other day asking when I was going to write another blog.  It made me wonder what I wanted to write about, and since I try to go with the first thing that crosses my mind, I thought. “Life Lessons”.  That’s a good subject.

Because, quite frankly,  I am sick of life lessons.  And I can’t be the only one….

Oh, don’t get me wrong.  I think life lessons are marvelous.  Up to a point anyway. But  it seems there an endless string of lessons I have yet to learn, or that I learned once but apparently need to learn again.  As if the lesson alone weren’t enough, there are  people who believe that you should have a positive attitude about the lessons you are learning, which isn’t all that easy to do when the point of most lessons seem to be finding the good in something bad that happened, even if, as it turns out, you were the one who decided it was bad in the first place.

A few weeks ago, I noticed that nearly everyone who posted on my home page on facebook were either coming or going from someplace exotic, and I wondered outloud  where I had gone so horribly wrong in my life that I hadn’t been anywhere in ages.  Someone wrote back and said, in effect, “that with attitude, its no wonder”. Well if attitude had anything to do with it, I would be sitting on the veranda on Hatchet Cay with a cocktail in one hand watching the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean, so I got to thinking….was this another one of those pesky “lessons” I was about to learn?  One of those, “your time will come, be grateful for what you have, don’t compare yourself to others” deals where you know its true, but you want what you want now, and you don’t want  another damned lesson to spoil a perfectly good pity party?

I am not good at waiting, anymore than I am good at keeping something that is bothering me to myself.  And its been bothering me a lot lately that I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  It bothers me that I feel lost, and small, and insecure, and even though I am not supposed to write about stuff like this for the whole world to see, I have never been one to keep my heart in a box on a shelf.  Its right there on my sleeve,  and most of the time, I like it that way.  Except when I feel embarrassed and ashamed by the fact that its left a nice red stain on my new white blouse, and I wish I’d have never taken it out of the box to begin with.

I am 52 years-old and I am still learning to accept myself for who I am.   And one of the parts of me that often gets lost in the translation, the part that I don’t talk about as much because its the thing I wrestle with the least, are all the times throughout the day when I look around and think….

“I am the richest woman in the world”.

Not because I’ve been to Paris, or I have a beachfront home in Maui, but because I got to watch the new male cardinal get his red feathers in bits and splotches from my office window this spring.  Because I have a ten pound  Shih Tzu who comes to work with me every day because that’s her job, and she takes it very seriously.   I don’t have a huge bank account, but  I live with a man who works harder than anyone I ever met in my life because he adores hard work, and never complains about it.  I am lucky enough to have friends who aren’t afraid to tell me to get over myself  when I go off on one of my tangents, like my friend Suzie did yesterday.   I didn’t like what she had to say, but even I knew I had it coming.

I found a 62 piece set of Franciscan Starburst dishware 45 minutes from my house when a single plate of this stuff is hard to come by.  My family is healthy.  It rained this past week.  The tomatos are starting to come in. I found a top of the line barbeque grill at Habitat for Humanity for less than half the cost of a new one, I am the proud new owner of an Elvis on velvet painting,  Bella has stopped eating every dog bed she’s had…..

And that, my friends, is my life lesson for the day.  Because, as it turns out, after writing this blog, I find I don’t mind life lessons that much after all….

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