Yesterday I marveled at my neighbor’s backyard barbecue party. I’m currently living in a retirement community (and loving it) while I care for my grandmother who is recovering from an accident.
Two couples, laughing over brussel sprouts and steaks on the grill during my daily afternoon bird-gazing ritual.
It felt wholesome, and a part of me wondered if I’d ever get to that point in my life, of conversations of family life over a glass of wine.
A normal retired life that we’re told we should all want... A part of me longed for that as I sat observing.
This led me to a bit of self-inquiry.
Will I ever have a family? Should I sell out and get a well paid corporate job? Get married? Buy a house? Not spend time thinking about art, magic, and synchronicities and just talk about my grand kids over a glass of wine with longtime friends?
A few hours later, after the guests went home, I’m still outside, eating a bowl of nuts for dinner. Suddenly I hear the alarming sound of hyper aggressive yelling from the man to his (presumably) wife.
My hands clenched my heart and my breath shortened.
Nope. Checking all the boxes does not equal happiness. We all have our sh*t.
I’m going to keep walking my path, in my way. Thanks, Universe.