The Physical World

My parents are visiting from Iowa.  It's nice to have them here.  Especially when I have to take Kate to school at 8am and Rachael isn't awake yet.  (And Rachael is never awake by 8am because she has stopped taking naps, and we can't get her to bed as early as we'd like because of all the other going-ons at our house.)

Even though today was a perfectly beautiful day, and my parents are here, and I enjoyed my new exercise video, and I took a lovely little bike ride with Rachael in the ibert, Elizabeth on her bike and Will on his ripstik, and I made this super tasty dinner that everyone (but Rachael) enjoyed (followed by delish tart mango frozen yogurt) - I'm slightly depressed.  And I couldn't put my finger on it until I talked it out with Brandon just now.

I live and function in the physical world.  My day today revolved around showering, laundering, dressing myself and others, doing hair, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, getting the kids to and fro, filling out papers for school, etc. etc. ET CETERA!  And I don't always derive as much fulfillment out of managing the physical world as I would like, nor do I always recognize that it is in the physical work of life that we are often nurturing relationships and developing important character traits.  I often feel like I am itching to do something "more meaningful" or create something immaterial.  I get bored with physical stuff.  I want to nurture relationships, have new experiences.  I want to chew on ideas, read interesting stuff, and blog, blog, blog.  (Write, write, write.)  But there is so little time left over.  And even though I feel like I labor every waking minute of the day in the physical world, I somehow never seem to get ahead in terms of getting this house put together and decorated, or taking care of myself and the kids in terms of clothes, haircuts, etc.

I ran across an amazing photography blog tonight and it completely cemented my already drippy mood. I appreciate physical beauty - I really do - but sometimes I get annoyed almost to the point of anger when I see the lengths people go to to make something physically beautiful.  What's the point?  I do hate to sound so cynical, but really - in the end - what does it matter if we had that perfect fake flower for our hair, or that divine dining table made of blah blah blah wood from who knows where?  I tire of the obsession with style in both clothing and home decor.  I just want to live my life, not spend it shopping.  And I want to figure out my purpose in life much more than I want to figure out my style.  


Of course it wouldn't bother me so much if I really didn't care at all.  Part of my annoyance is because I'm living in a soul-less rental, boxes still unpacked, unable to make any decorating decisions or purchases because why should I if we aren't even going to stay in this house?  And I could really use a little Stacy London in my life right about now, but I have a two-year-old, so shopping trips and days at the salon don't come easy.

But I don't really care that much.  I just feel like I should so I don't look like an absolute flub.  There is a part of me that just wants to drop out and be the crazy cat lady with long gray hair surrounded by her books.  I would be Brandon's perfect counter point.  He's sitting here on his computer looking up instructions for the cider press one of his patients gave him (long story) talking about how he wants to live a life more in sync with nature and the seasons, not in some big sterile house surrounded by a bunch of cool, stylish "things".

I don't know what any of this means.  Maybe we're both on the brink of a mid-life crisis.  It is my birthday next week.