"The very nature of Joy makes nonsense of our common distinction between having and wanting."
The blankets just emerged from the dryer and Charlie has completely buried herself, allowing only the tops of her ears to poke through. Precious critter, she loves a warm pile of handmade afghans and blankies, and I can't blame her a teeny-tiny little bit.
It's been one of those weekends- a slipper wearing, pony-tail sporting, get things accomplished type of weekend. With the weather taking a cold turn and the skies a messy soup of gray, gray-er, and black, I've had motivation to stay put, enjoy my surrounding, spend time with my little family, and tackle a few homemaker-ish types of responsibilities.
It was one of those days where I found myself in love with this little house and this little life. I enjoyed the squeak of the kitchen door as I made trip after trip up and down the basement steps with basket upon basket of laundry. I found some kind of serenity looking out the kitchen window and watching the yellow finches stop for a snack at the feeder. I found so much happiness in ironing and laundry and making our dinner (now cooking in the crock-pot).
With every sock that was rolled, every precisely folded towel, and each carefully ironed button-down shirt I felt grateful. And I mean really, really grateful.
It's kind of strange, really. I look around this life and I am ever so satisfied.
You should probably know that for quite a long time I've wanted to add another waggly tail to this abode. I wanted another fur-friend to love and spoil and care for. Well, I'd finally managed to convince Chad-o that another dog was a great, marvelous, if not all around fantastic idea. And so it was, this spring another little puppy was to grace the residence of 403.
But, remember my belief in signs? Remember how they visit me in the most unusual of times?
We were hiking.
We were having ourselves the most wonderful of afternoons, having just had a delicious lunch at a quaint little cafe. To be honest, I wasn't even thinking about puppies or dogs or even my little Charlie T. I was engrossed in the moment, plodding along a river, carefully watching my step and working to avoid soggy feet.
And then, from between the rays of a shinning sun and the breeze of a gentle wind, I heard it. I heard the familiar whisper and I knew.
That was that. The decision was made. Not the answer and decision I really wanted, but the best, most responsible one, for now.
It's so very interesting how things come about. I'm always fascinated at how answers and solutions so clearly present themselves.
As difficult as it is to place our "wants" to the side, it is most important and imperative that we do what is truly best- best for us and our current situations.
Finding contentment in such a crazy, fast-paced, instant-gratification society is a gift.
The here and now is good. Really good. Beyond good.
I understand the message. I really tried to take all I could from that gentle whisper.
I am so grateful. I am so blessed. There is nothing more that I need.
This life that I have with the people I am surrounded by is enough.
It is enough.
Charlie is enough.