What’s this life all about?

I have been going thru an existential crisis of sorts lately and I’ve been trying to understand what is the point in all this. What is the point in life? Are we all just born to work and dream away our lives, work ourselves to the bone, fantasizing about that one moment when we have the perfect house, the perfect family, the perfect life… and we can finally be happy… only to then reach the end of our lives and die? Like…. is that all there is to it? 

And if that’s the case… how come I’m happy now. Like RIGHT NOW.

You see, I can’t think of a single thing that is perfect in my life. In fact, half the time it feels chaotic like I’m spinning a hundred plates in the air and they’re dropping and wobbling, swaying and it’s loud and ridiculous. 

But the things that matter to me? Oh my god, it’s so good.

For example, I love my tiny little house filled with light and toys and potted plants that I somehow kept alive. I love that I don’t really worry about bills because I bought within my means. I don’t lose sleep over it, I can actually live my life in this house. 

I love my kid. I love her when she drives me up the flippin’ wall and I love her when she looks at me with her beautiful eyes and says something so deep I swear she’s 100 years old. I don’t care what she does in school or how others see her. I just want her to be the best version of herself. 

I love my body. That’s crazy. I know I’m overweight and I know I need to work out more but I’m so grateful I’m healthy and I am free to do whatever the hell I want (although I have a sneaky suspicion ballet is off the table).

I love my job. Oh boy it’s a real roller coaster owning a business and having zero guarantees of any income the next month. But with the help of carbs and wine and so much Netflix, I think I can do it. And I get to watch my kid grow while I do it, it feeds my soul and it’s a job I never want to retire out of. THAT’S A RARE GIFT, my friends.

I love my family. But make no mistake this ain’t no dreamy bunch of sweet endearing people that are slightly quirky. No. My family is made up of flawed people who were biologically designed to know ALL THE BUTTONS TO PUSH. AAAAALL THE BUTTONS. But by god I love them. Weird, loving, loud, cranky Europeans. 

And yes – there are many many complications and obstacles and some really crappy days of sobbing into a bowl of pasta. 

And SOMETIMES – sure – I fantasize about falling thru the magical stones in 1700s Scotland because frankly it feels like it might be easier than calling Comcast AGAIN or scheduling clients or coparenting a kid or figuring out what the hell to cook for dinner. 

Wealth, the perfect partner, the perfect kids, the status, what people think of you, the car you drive…  I think that shit is a waste of a human life. 

The way I see it is we live until we die. We meet people and we hold onto them until it’s time to let them go. 

Life is fleeting. 

Beautifully fleeting. So go do you! Don’t listen to advice. What do YOU want? What will feed your soul. None of us know what’s best for you. That’s your job to figure out. Want to write a book? Do that. Want to wear a two piece swimsuit this summer, gurl yas. Want to move somewhere new, do it – YOU ARE NOT A TREE. You can JUST MOVE. Want to start a business – why the hell not. This is all you get. 

If life is already all it will ever be (and I think it is) you might as well do whatever the fuck you want to do. Including swearing in a blog post at the risk of not seeming wholesome. *insert eye roll*

Just don’t kill people. And don’t be a racist piece of shit. 

But other than that, you do you, boo.