While I was sweeping my kitchen floor this morning, an interesting train of thoughts chugged though my mind (I suppose I should clarify "chugged." "Chugged" could sound like slow, steady progress or messy drinking. I meant the former).
I looked at the blah linoleum in my kitchen and envisioned wide wooden boards in its place (think George Washington would have walked on them). Then I switched to the image of large, heavy tiles, perhaps slate-colored. I wondered At what point in the road will I have the kitchen floor I dream of now?
I surprised myself with this question. I wasn't upset that I didn't have the floors now, because I was content with the inevitable goodness of my future? Weird. Sounds awful, doesn't it? Not in the way that something tragic sounds awful, but in the way that something too wonderful, too sweet can sometimes sound forced or fake. I don't mean to come off in a saccharine, unapproachable way.
In February 2010, I walked into this place while it was empty. Ready to be moved into. But I wasn't at a point in my life where I could do that. I was alone and unemployed. I loved the lay-out, the wood moldings and comfy sun room. I wanted to live in this place so badly. I just couldn't.
In February 2012, I moved here with the wonderful. Mr. UpCountry. It's my home now. I couldn't have it two years ago, but everything fell into place for me to live here in this moment.
So at what point in my life will I get the large, slate tiles? I don't know, and that's pretty intriguing to me. I might never get them, but back in 2010, I didn't think I'd ever live here. Yet here I am, sweeping the linoleum floor I wish I could replace.
I've become increasingly curious about my own road. Mostly because it's obvious to me now that I cannot predict (at all) what's going to happen to me and (honestly?) so far I've been mostly pleased by these surprises. I never knew so many things in life could just happen.
I realize there's suffering in the world and that I'm bound to experience it every day (at least on some small, minor level). But today, I'm not thinking about the pain ahead. I'm looking forward to all the other things that will fall into place and delight in those things that already have.
(Did I just hear you say "Aww, shucks? :smirk)