I had a major breakthrough over the past couple of days.
Despite all my complaining, despite all my anxiety and worrying, despite the restlessness that hits me every couple of months like a locomotive train, despite a desire – sometimes – for more, I am content.
I am not even going down the road of comparing my life to that of others’ to say how fortunate mine is in comparison to all those suffering from poverty, natural disasters, major health issues, abuse, wars, etc. Doing that is not fair to me and it is not fair to them.
My life is good given the circumstances I was dealt and the choices I have had to make.
I am happy with my choices. Every single one of them. Even the bad ones. I am happy with them because I am the one who made them. I am happy with them because I have grown as a result of them.
I am happy with my choices because I have (almost) always managed to get my priorities straight.
I have struggled through issues of faith only to realize how important my faith actually is to me. Religion may confuse the heck out of me sometimes. I may not understand all the details. I might understand certain aspects of my religion differently than the mainstream. My understandings might be completely illogical. Believing might be completely counter-intuitive (to some). But I am a believer. I am comfortable in my faith. It is my faith and no one else’s. I have no need to justify my beliefs or the irrationality therein to others. My faith forms an integral part of who I am. God “gets” me. I know He does. That comforts me to no end.
I have strived the best that I can to make my personal life my priority. I have not been the best wife. I have not been the best mother. I have not been the best daughter or sister or aunt. But I do try. And no matter how awful my attempts have been, I am full of love for my family.
My faith in my God and my love for my family: those are all I really need.
I have been through a recent phase when I have thought that to gauge the overall quality of my life was to rate how successful I was in my career. For some reason I lost sight of the fact that no matter how passionate I can be about the work I do, in the end I do not do it for financial gain, however much that is needed, nor for obtaining bragging rights and self-esteem; I do it in order to better myself, my family, and those around me. A career is not the only way to get that. And it certainly is not the most important (not to me).
Life has never been easy for me. My struggles may be peanuts compared to those of others. But that is not the point. The point is that they have been difficult for me. I have managed to learn how to navigate through the difficulties of life. I know that life has its ups and downs. I know that I will be in for many more difficult times ahead. That is just the nature of life. But I also know that somehow I will manage to get myself through them, God willing.
It would be nice to have certain things: a job, more money, a successful career, the ability to go on an adventure every other month of the year, a bigger house, a slicker car, a larger flat screen television, a Louis Vuitton purse, a yacht, a villa on the Riviera…I’m really getting carried away now.
But I know that none of that is really important.
My faith and my love for my family are what is important to me. And I have them: my faith fluctuates within, some of my family are physically with me, some I am able to keep in touch with over the Internet, and others are no longer here but I carry them always in my heart.
I am content. I have done the right things. I have made the right choices. I am exactly where I need to be.