The Pursuit of Happiness

Sigh.  I've worked long and hard to get here these last years...maybe not perfect happiness, but a sense of peace, contentment, acceptance, enjoyment, and appreciating the moment.  And I'm not sure that the state I'm in in a lasting one; in fact, I'm a bit nervous that it could go away at any moment.  And truthfully, I hate the whole polyanna principle -so annoying it makes me gag.  I enjoy - nay, cherish -  my edge, my skepticism, my cynical bite.  Thank god for those.  But here I am, as if a switch has flipped on, and I have found peace and contentment on more days than not.  I am satisfied.  I am grateful (not  "practicing gratefulness," just grateful to have such a cool life).  I accept the imperfections and the minor irritations, and don't try to wrangle them to submission anymore (perhaps this is my greatest revelation of late).

While it's been a long process, the turnaround seemed to happen as I headed into my 40th birthday - just feeling all-around good.  I remember being in Paris, and eating a salad from a cellophane container from a bakery, and stating it was the best salad I had ever had.  My friend looked at me skeptically.  But it was the moment, *that* moment, of eating a salad of beets and sweet corn with a dijon vinaigrette; sitting on the cool concrete staircase along the Seine (and because of those cool, concrete steps, I truly *felt* them in the moment); the gentle evening light as dusk approached; my last night in Paris after a very satisfying, fully-earned, long-anticipated vacation. The whole thing made that the best salad of my entire life.  Obviously, I'm not making that up, because it is over 2 months later, and I can relive the details while writing this.  I had other such moments during  my Paris trip - the best beer, the best cup of coffee, the best crepe au sucre.

And every once in a while, here, back in the grind, I have those moments again.  Wow, what a gorgeous evening on my porch, looking at the lush green grass (it looks especially green and unweed-y tonight), a child is laughing and a dog is barking, the weather is just perfect with a light breeze, and I am truly relaxed and happy.

I've had a long road since my separation from Dear-ex-Husband - just over four years now.  It was Hell.  My world turned upside down.  Everything felt so uncertain and shitty.  And everything was.  And instead of getting slowly better, as we separated in May 2006 and I re-found my temporary grounding (in fact I remember feeling pretty high on life a year later in 2007), it turned temporarily worse. Life took a steady, and seemingly unending nosedive later that fall, and into the next fall (2008) and winter (2009), and even some pretty endless annoyances as late as August and September 2009.  These years weren't years of complete darkness. In this time, I took a fabulous trip to China, and had many cherished experiences and moments.  But the overall was a total slog, and completely uphill exhausting.   And then - slowly, but also at a relatively identifiable time in retrospect (maybe it was November 2009, maybe February 2010) -  it all eased.  And clear river currents began to flow again.

I have put conscious inputs to this happiness.  First, I identified what made me happy and vowed to do more - cooking, swimming, going to All Souls Church.  At some point, I calculated I was doing 3-5 hours per week of tasks solely related to actively  investing in my well-being (1 hour of swimming, 1 hour of church, 1 hour of counseling/therapy, a 45-min meditation CD that was regular company in September 2008).  I felt good during and after each, but wondered aloud when it would actually kick-in long-term.  I mean, 4+ hours of dedicated "me" time for inner restoration seemed almost excessive to me.  It wasn't like the rest of my life- hours were all slog.  I went to to movies, met friends, took hikes, read books to my daughter, had some steamy make-out sessions.

I still wonder what the hell is next.  I still find that my job can suck the life out of me some days. I can be racked by stress.  But here it is, and here I am.  I'm not expecting a perma-state of contentment, but I do seem to have some lasting coping skills, and new perspective, that I hope to drawn upon forever after -when I need it and also when I don't.

I [HEART] blogging

So, I was thinking the other day how much I personally enjoy blogging.  Whether I have any readers, or not; whether they agree with what I have to say, or not; whether I have anything interesting to say (to others besides myself), or not.

Perhaps it is a narcissistic exercise.  Perhaps it is a lot of hot air.

However, what I enjoy is the creative outlet it provides me to write.  I do love to write (whether I'm any good, or not), and I love words.  I have sought such an outlet for many years, something that would get me out of the scope of strategy memos for work and emotional purges in a journal.  I've considered taking a creative writing class many times - but can't commit the time, let alone take the pressure to produce on deadline or for scrutiny.  This blogging outlet allows me to write short, polished, published pieces about things I care about and ponder over with absolutely no pressure to produce.

It has been therapeutic (like my swimming regimen) to have this creative outlet away from my real life and responsibilities (though it does reflect those real life responsibilities). It allows me to consider my life and my world (and aren't we all the center of our own universe?) with some distance, perspective, and sometime humor (or not) as an "observer" - maybe even a clearer sense of self.  I enjoy writing from this Nouvelle Observatrice "alter ego" - who I would be and who I am, if I did not have real life responsibilities, obligations, and stress - a  traveler, a lover, a foodie, an amateur connoisseur of art, design, politics, people and culture). Admittedly, I enjoy reading my own blog sometimes, and remembering the experiences and seeing from whence I've come.

I choose to keep this blog publicly un-linked to my real name because I do have real life obligations, responsibilities, and a "public" work life - and I wish to keep them separate from this.   I have shared my blog with people who are not within that sphere.  And if a reader should stumble here, I would be easily recognized by someone with whom I'm acquainted (something for which I suppose I should be prepared if it were to happen at the wrong time or in the wrong way).  Then again, should that happen, I would not hide from who I am or what I've said.

All that said, when I re-read my blog, it seems like I'm a lot more "balanced" than I actually am, more "balanced" than I actually feel.  I certainly have fucked up my life as much (and as little) as anybody.  I have some regrets; and I have some points of pride.  I am not all that I can and could be. These days I'm working on being my true self (warts and all)  and acceptance - of me, of others - on all the rest, which just might be a taller order than all that striving for perfection/self-flagellation shit I'm used to.

For posterity

If you had a chance to move to anywhere in the world. Where would it be?
Top 5 - DC, Philadelphia, Cape Town, Toronto, Paris. Each one provides some draw of a multicultural, international vibrant city that is accessible to friends and family (or so good they'd come visit) with decent weather and seasons. All that and a shack in Maine or the Adirondacks!

Ideal meal fantasy

On a hot night someone surprises you with dinner . It will be served outside at a table overlooking the ocean , what would you want to be served?
Ahhhhhhhhh. I think I'm in Greece. Freshly grilled fish with a squeeze of lemon and a drizzle of olive oil; tangy tsaztiki; fresh summer tomatoes tossed with olives and creamy chunks of feta, warm, soft pita bread (with char marks), wine...maybe some baklava dripping with honey...more wine. Or in Spain with a cool gazpacho, spicy shrimp, dates wrapped in serrano ham, steak, roasted/grilled potatoes with rosemary, sangria, a bite of chocolate, a sip of port.