Definitely, some days are like pushing water uphill. I love that saying as it communicates overcoming insurmountable odds, or despair by one's choices or who they surround themselves by.
Today I was on holidays. Who isn't on holidays on a Sunday, many would say. Yet, I truly am on holidays. You see, I work a lot of Sundays during the day and it is less likely to be off on a Sunday if I was not on a holiday.
Probably there were many times I took Sunday for granted. Stayed in bed too long, nursed a hangover or bowed to her Royal Laziness. Today, I spent it with my daughter. Two minutes from where I live, I'm on a highway out into the country.
Big deal? Well, absolutely. Because, you see, people from all around the world come to my corner to see cowboys, mountains, fresh air, hike, fish or just take in the surroundings I can see in meir minutes.
It amplifies how little one has to complain about. Sure, I'd always wanted a country mansion or a tropical paradise called my own. But today, I just sucked in the air, looked at the beauty around me and really thought: yeh, this is what striving for a balanced life is all about.
My husband had a buddy over working on his car. My daughter came with me to just go where our travels would take us, with no agenda other than hang out. The bills are paid, I'm on holidays.
I'm not in the midst of jet lag at a destination that I spent a few brain cells deciding where to go, what to pack, what time to make it to the airport, would the accommodations be suitable, the resort top notch and whether they have a pool bar. No list beckons me, as per my usual fair. I'm on holidays, I don't have to have a list or a plan.
I've balanced my act. I'm not whining about what I don't have, or taking stock of what I should have had. I am content to absorb and enjoy the fortune I do have. We drove down the beautiful highway, passing by and sometimes passed by many a folk out driving motorcycles, refurbished hot rods, or speeding convertibles.
What mattered was who was beside me. My daughter. I got it. There have been times when she'd make me want to pull my hair out, be quieter or be more serious. Well, she'd been doing way too much and being way too serious. It was mom and daughter therapy. Whenever I get the slightest inclination where my jaw starts to open with a jolt from the brain to complain, I have to think of her.
Yes, I certainly did get to figure skate most of my growing up and that took commit-ment, but she fits in her love of soccer while working three jobs, getting ready to return to her second year of university. I didn't have to work that many jobs. I didn't drive a $600 car. In fact, I didn't drive a car at all. I had to rely on charm to hitch a ride or suck it up and take transit.
Heck, I didn't have a car to hear a funny knock or a shimmying start until after I got married. Nor did I have a smartphone to look up what that noise could mean. Now, I have a husband who was going to lift the hood to check on her theories while we took off on our own.
We drove into this tiny little town and our first stop was a thrift shop. Now, we're not talking about a big charity almost department store. It was an honest to goodness cash only (leave your city attitude behind) and elderly lovely couple with a cat who supervised the shop. I bought another purse I didn't need and a pair of tan shorts that are at least two sizes too big.
Next stop appealed to the yearn of our appetites responding to the fresh, country, carefree air we found ourselves in. An all day diner that every couple or group that sat down were told by their friendly, cheerful staff that they could have breakfast or dinner. We sat at the counter and got to watch slices of pies march in front of our eyes. It was an easy choice to split our grilled chicken sandwich, smothered in a secret home made sauce with the greenest lettuce and reddest tomatoes fit for a food commercial.
Yes, we shared a piece of pie ... even though my daughter said she was "good" as is her way of politely saying "no" while still sharing a good half of the "Hawaiian Pie" ... I must be getting old because I lifted my fork and looked at the light airy flakey crust, melting between a combination pudding, pineapples bits topped with whip cream. We walked out pleasantly satiated without being stuffed.
We headed home, stopping in a few more boutiques along the way, without pulling out a wallet. The younger version of me kicked in when I thought I may be ahead of the game after spotting a dress that would be perfect for my stepdaughter's wedding next year.
My daughter ventured back out when we got home to join up with her friends, one of which was going on to Toronto to continue her law degree. Huh, thinking about it now, a little has rubbed off. Perhaps she now knows and believes, that your life is your own balancing act. It throws curveballs at you sometimes, but if you uphold quality friendships and relationships you have plenty who will let you lean on them.
I was content to spend the evening with my husband, where we both were satisfied with our day. He may have got more done with the work on his buddy's car and checking my daughter's. But the dividends of spending the day with my daughter and having him to come home to does remind me that for all the years of striving to balance my life, it has actually hit a rhythm that is wonderful.
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