Pioneer Woman has a great post today about "how did I get here?" She was revisiting her life 10, 20 years ago, and pondering the fact that she is not at all where she thought she would be.
I took some time to reflect on that myself. And hell no, I am nowhere that I thought I would be! Such a different place, in fact, that I no longer speculate about the future and where I hope or even expect to be.
Twenty years ago I was engaged to the man of my dreams. Our plans were to graduate from college, get married, and join the Peace Corps. We even had those applications filled out. I am not sure what made us not send them in-- that part of my memory is a little fuzzy, but we had plans to change the world, for sure. I think, at that point in my life, I wasn't really looking much toward the future. I saw myself as different from most people, so probably not the 2.2-kids-and-a-house-type person, but maybe doing the mostly normal thing with my own twist. Certainly, I was the sorority girl marrying the fraternity boy.
Fifteen years ago I had graduated from college, married that man of my dreams, lived in Chicago for several years, and had just moved to an apartment in the suburbs, as we had our daughter in 1992. I was not working, and B was struggling in a job he hated, just to, well, not even really, make ends meet. I worked part time at home so that we could bridge the gap between eating and not eating. I could not imagine having enough money to even have a mortgage, as having a car and an apartment was killing us financially. I think B and I both felt somewhat hopeless, and while we didn't plan specifically for the future, we didn't really see any way out of where we were, and that was not in a place we were happy with.
Ten years ago, we had moved from that suburban apartment, had lived in the southwest US, the southeast US, and were living overseas. B had abandoned his much-hated job and joined the military and we were stationed in England. We lived in a tiny house, but had everything we needed. Those were some of the best times of our lives. After bills were paid on payday, there were weeks we had $25.00 in our account, but we made it work. We got by on $13,000 a year for the 4 of us. I started to look toward the future, and a job making even $30,000 a year seemed so foreign to us. B was looking to get out of the military and we were making plans, but we really had little concept of what we would need and what our money would buy.
Five years ago we were living in the suburbs, having left the military and come to the midwest to take a great job. Fortunately, we didn't have to figure out how to live on $30K, and we had built and bought our perfect suburban dream house. It did, at the time, seem somewhat like we were searching and didn't really fit in anywhere. I did not grow up in the suburbs, and it didn't feel natural to me to do the block parties and the soccer games and to keep up with the Joneses.
Of course, that all changed a year later when we moved out here. We had moved 17 times since we were married, before we owned our own home. While some of those moves were because of the military and our situation, many of those moves were because we were searching for something. I think it was a combination of things-- something that felt like US, rather than fitting ourselves into someone else's mold of success and contentment. Frankly, it has taken a lot of desensitization to not look at my life through someone else's glasses. After I have been busy all day outside, and I come inside and see the laundry sorted in the laundry room but not washed, or the clean laundry in a dozen baskets in my bedroom waiting for me to put it away, or the dishes that are undone on the counter, it has taken a while for me to think to myself, "What would someone think if they stopped by and saw this mess?" And frankly, I still find myself doing that on occasion. But most of the time I m content with looking at things through MY glasses. I am in a place that feels like heaven most days (except when it's below zero). I listen outside, and I hear the faint monotony of a tractor engine, but louder is a chorus of birds. I don't hear road noise or even one other voice. My kids so appreciate and seek out the calm. So the laundry and the dishes can wait-- I have already worked hard! I even have horrible cell reception here, so cell phone communications are mostly reserved for when we are in the city. Every day we are treated to a spectacular sunset and -- if I am in the mood to appreciate it -- a glorious sunrise. The animals around us are so calming. Agriculture is so grounding, it puts you in touch with what matters and what is so basic in life. It can be a wild ride for sure, but on days like today it is very peaceful. And it still matters-- it is as vital as saving babies and working for world peace, but it is in a slower, calmer fashion. So I can't look at myself through any glasses other than my own, and do what feels right to me.
Twenty years ago, as I was planning that fabulous wedding, I would never have thought that twenty years in the future, we would end up raising goats on a midwestern farm, living in an old farmhouse with no air conditioning or dishwasher, with our 2 lovely children who go to a school that is nearly a mirror image of my school growing up. And if we WERE doing that, that we would LOVE it. It seemed more likely that I would be working downtown Chicago in some important job, having worked my way up to a great corner office with a great view, a big staff, and a nice condo overlooking Lake Michigan.
But damn, my life feels great! I wouldn't trade it for anything.
So, if you were to ask me now, what I will be doing in 20 years? I have no idea. I could be enjoying my life in the biggest city in the world, not even owning a car, goats the farthest thing from my reality. Or, I could be here, having finally found what I was searching for, leaving only when I was done with this life. Never say never. The only thing I DO know, is that in 20 years I will still be enjoying those sunsets-- wherever they may be-- with the love of my life. Wherever he is, is home to me.
