My blogging sister at Surviving Limbo recently posted about learning to truly live, or maybe it’s “settling” glorified.
Many people die at 25 and aren’t buried until they’re 75.
~ Benjamin Franklin
I wonder. Is life at 25 better, worse or just different from life at 45? I’m voting for just different.
When you think about it, we still had periods of being single, being in love, break ups that rocked our worlds, financial stresses, people who counted on us, career choices and failures…we just called it college and the hardship of finding work in a field we dedicated 4 years of our life to while learning. When we were 25, we may have had more free time, but less money to do things other than sit around and drink with friends on the weekends.
So is it settling if we now spend our weekends sitting outside watching our kids play their sport of choice? Is it settling if we spend a quiet evening popping corn and catching a Disney movie on DVD? I’m not too proud to say that I know the words to all the songs in several Disney films. It is a great joy to me to sing with my loved ones.
Priorities change and so does our definition of a fulfilling life.
My great dream is to take something forgotten and restore it to its former glory. Beautiful wood furniture fits the bill. The work will be tedious and time-consuming, but it will be worth it. To see the diamond in the rough and know that I did not cast it aside for an easier path, it’s kind of like having kids. You don’t have kids with the expectation that it will be easy and filled with sunshine 24/7. Every parent knows that kids will try your patience, bring you heartache, and ride your last nerve. Kids will also fill your cup with love, lift you to great heights, and bring you funny moments when you least expect them.
A fulfilling life for me not the easy path. It is a labor of love.
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