Sunday Morning Serenity

Last night I dreamed that I was walking on the beach with my mother, discussing the future plans of a young cousin, Abby. I saw her recently and regret to say I pelted her with the same dreaded "so what do you think you'll major in" questions that drove me crazy when I was all of 19, majoring in "General Curriculum" and trying to decide whether to become a lawyer or a speech pathologist. I have given the same annoying quiz to another young cousin, Adam. (Forgive me, you two. It seems I have become an old person.)

In my dream, as Mama and I walked along the edge of the water, I told her about a highly scientific study Abby was using to choose her field, something that gave professions a star rating, based on the extent to which they could guarantee future employment and financial success. I was worried that Abby would choose a five-star rating over a life's work that would truly make her happy. 

That security-versus-joy equation is tricky business. The past four years of freelancing, after 22 years with a publishing corporation, have made me reevaluate it almost daily. I wish I could tell you I have it all figured out, but I don't. I do know that I have a tendency to take things for granted. When I was caught up in the daily grind of a "real job," I took for granted a regular paycheck, health insurance, and a building full of creative colleagues who inspired me, taught me, and made me so much better at what I do. Now, I catch myself taking for granted the freedom to go to work in my PJs at 4 a.m. and finish before noon if I want to; to be there whenever my family needs me; to meet Dave for lunch almost every day—in our living room, over homemade paninis and House Hunters on HGTV.

What we're all majoring in, I think, is happiness. Even people who say their goal is great wealth probably want all that money because they think it will ultimately make them happy. (A favorite joke of Daddy and mine when we're shopping: "People who say that things can't make you happy just aren't buying the right stuff." :) How we define happiness changes over time. When I was Abby's age, I envisioned happiness as a New York apartment and a job that would take me all over the world. Now I envision it as time with Dave, relaxing on the beach or rambling down a two-lane highway with no particular destination or just sitting on our deck, watching an afternoon storm roll in. It's time with our families. It's peace and quiet. It's those precious hours in the Story Shack when I have a little window to write exactly what I want to.

And that takes me back to my dream. I woke up in the middle of it, before I had a chance to give Abby this advice from her Aunt Nannette and me (and we're talking to you, too, Adam): Major in happiness, sweetie. Major in whatever will give you the opportunity to use your gifts in their intended way and shine your personal little beam of God-given light in this world. Everything else is minor.

Comments

[Candy Hicks]

BRAVO, BRAVO, WONDERDFUL ! ! ! ! ! HUGS :)

[Candy Hicks]

OOPS........WONDERFUL......forgot to proff it ;)

[Valerie]

I can sympathize! Found a typo in my blog a day after I posted it. Drives me crazy when I do that! But we'll just overlook these little foibles, won't we? Thanks so much for reading the blog!