Existential Allyson

I haven't been in a blogging mood as of late.  Obviously.

The fact of the matter is, despite my happy-go-lucky life of baking cookies and playing endless rounds of Candyland, I often find myself awake in the middle of the night for an hour or more worrying and thinking about all kinds of craziness. I bottle it up for awhile, and then eventually it all comes spilling out over Brandon, the conversation ending with me saying something like I said to him tonight, "You should have married a simpleton from Farmington." (I think that's a small farming community in Utah--no offense, it just rhymed.)

Some days (many days) I really do wish the only things swirling around in my brain were recipes, decorating ideas, and vacation plans. The requisite business of mothering four children and running a household does afford a nice distraction from thinking if that's what you're going for (that was me last week--I got a lot done), but sooner or later there are some things you just can't avoid. Existential things like the meaning of life, pain and regret, the purpose of suffering, and other equally light hearted topics most people would love to talk about at a dinner party with me. (This is classic "alone in a crowd" stuff.)

My sister has melanoma traveling around in her body, and now it's landed in her lungs. Not a great place to be--it's inoperable, and radiation and chemo are not options. What else is there to say about this on my silly blog? Lots actually, but this isn't the place.

Then the quake and tsunami hit Sendai--the place Brandon and I met, the place where we lived and worked as missionaries. It's hard enough to see that kind of devastation on the news without a personal connection, but when you do it changes your perspective a bit. And yes, gets me thinking even more.

There's other stuff too, but it's none of your business, and I can never discount the influence of OOCFHS (out of control female hormones syndrome) as well as the possibility of SAD (seasonal affective disorder). I mean, I've been using my happy lamp, but it has been downright dreary around here! (Or, if you are my psychotically optimistic husband who quotes Sherlock Holmes, you would be appreciating the "dun-colored heath.") In any case . . .

Life is so fragile. Fragile, fleeting, and moving too darn fast!

I've been noticing lately that the longer you live, the more stuff that happens. (I know, profound.) Lots of good stuff, but hard stuff too. I'm starting to see why older people talk about youth like it's such a magical thing. Sure, it's hard to go through the awkwardness of the teenage years and the challenges of the transitional years when you go out on your own to figure out what to do with our life and who you're going to spend it with, but when you are young? Everything is still waiting to happen. There is nothing but potential and possibility--nothing rotten has happened yet.

And while I haven't had a whole lot of rotten in my life, I'm just having a hard time focusing on the good right now. Call me crazy, but I'm not very good at enjoying the bounty of my own charmed life when other people around me are suffering so much. You can really start to see where Mother Teresa was coming from.

Don't worry. Tomorrow I'll be back to Elizabeth's first lost tooth, Rachael's nightly "wubby" ritual, Will's upcoming birthday, and Kate's latest art project. That's what I like about blogging.  It freezes time, and selectively highlights the happy.

I know, I get it. Life really is good. Sometimes I just get a little bummed out for awhile.