Sunday, May 11, 2008

What then?

You know it's a low point when you come out of a great, funny movie (Forgetting Sarah Marshall) and you immediately are filled with dread.

You know it's a low point when you read most of the 81 comments about regrets and although they are fascinating, you have to stop reading them because they are too damn depressing.

Why have I sat on the couch since the moment I woke up this morning and now it's afternoon?

It's a beautiful day outside and I could/should go for a walk, but it's easier to stay here on the couch.

It's not so much the regrets about the past as about my inability to make a change now. (Or is it unwillingness? Or maybe fear?)

What got this whole meladrama ball rolling was hearing a speaker at work talking about how a successful person has a 5-year plan. And a successful person has a dream job in mind that she strives for in everything she does. And a succesful person is not me.

3 comments:

alyce said...

I met someone new the other day. We were doing the usual chit chat and I stopped to ask, "Are you happy?" She paused and, when answering, teared up a bit. Yes, she was pretty happy.

But the tears came because she'd been made to feel like what she had wasn't enough. By family, by friends, by strangers who judged what she did and how much she made and determined for her that it wasn't enough. But it was enough. It was enough for her.

I hope that you find for yourself what is enough.

Jennifer said...

FUnny how other people's visions of what success is meant to be can cloud even the best of days. I have a job where they think I'm wonderful, a great husband, a (mostly) happy goofball of a kid, a great house, and a wonderful support system. And yet, I know that if my dad were still alive, he'd be disappointed in what I've chosen to do with my life. I thumb my nose at that. ANd at anyone who says you need a five year plan and a dream job to be successful.

Erica said...

I don't have a five year plan. There is a lot to be said for enjoying the journey. It took me 36 years to figure that out, though.