Dan and I took a walk here, at Macatawa Greenspace, a few weeks back. With the exception of the disc golfers, we had the park mostly to ourselves. We wandered among the wildflowers and brush and planted ourselves on the bridge over the creek, dangling our feet over the edge, plunking pebbles down, watching the drift of leaves and twigs along the surface. We took the time to talk.
I often wish we went for more walks or found more places to hike. I wish we did this or did that. I hear about other couples who do something and then suddenly I wish we did.
Today, I found myself wishing that I had style like my aunt and uncle, whose charming home is filled with hip craigslist finds, driftwood end tables that my aunt dreamed up and my uncle rigged together, pop art they’ve collected from Comic-Con, and exotic surfing paraphernalia.
I wished I had the creativity and the handiwoman skills to build furniture, the mental energy and the insider knowledge to track down such great pieces, the time and the stamina to do house projects.
As I’m wont to do, I started to compare, to make judgments about my life. (I forgot that I’m still in grad school and have an excuse for not yet having a home.)
Later, in a different context, my mom said, “You just get to choose how to do it! That’s the thing of marriage—the two of you get to make it up, get to decide how to make your life.”
That’s right: Dan and I do do things; we just don’t do those things. We love our life. And the two of us—this unique pair of people—get to decide how to make that life. We’ve made some decisions, and we’re living them. We take walks sometimes, and we don’t play tennis. We visit friends in Princeton, and we don’t go to Thailand. We cook dinner together, and we don’t go antiquing. We have our life. We don’t live someone else’s.
We love our life, and we’re making it up as we go along.
(This post is one in a November series for NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month. You can find the rest here!)