Good Morning Dumplings!
I’m writing to you from somewhere over rural Kentucky…I think. It’s really hard to tell from 33000 feet. A lot of things are unclear from here. Maybe that’s why I like flying… it doesn’t challenge me intellectually. We are headed to Captiva Island for the week. Seven days from now I’ll be on another plane running from Ft. Myers to Orlando for a quick sampling of Disney Princess overload. Then it’ll be time to come back to the Ivy Hills of Indy. In my usual “I must over analyze things it’s who I am” moment on Wednesday, I thought that our last meeting was kinda missing something (although the chocolate fondue more than compensated!).
The jest of May’s chapter was about fun, liesure…play time. And yet, most of us had a pretty hard time defining it for ourselves.
For Alice… I’ll compare defining fun to a particular shade of Gray;). You know it when you have it just right, but it can be damned elusive when you’re searching for it.
I think I tend to confuse fun with happiness. Fun is something in the fleeting moment. It’s in stuff that can make you giggle. An awkward photo, a phrase taken out of context, a mom screaming obscenities while begging Jesus to tell her where she is on the roller coaster… that stuff is fun. Sometimes my fun is just a unexpected experience or a pleasant surprise. I think that’s why I really enjoyed Lent this year. I thought I was doing the opposite of my normal “give something up as my Jesus promise.” Actually, I was doing the same thing. This year what I really gave up was my usual defenses and resistance. In truth, I gave up my wet blanket comfort zone.
During my Lenten journey, I actually discovered how un-fun I had let myself become. Apparently my assigned flight pattern wasnt often deviating from 33,000 feet. Not much to see. Not always easy to see where you currently are or what lies below the cloud cover. Pretty safe and reliable though.
I think that sucks. I cannot believe I’ve allowed myself to side slide into a rut of dowdy predictability. My head gives me permission for this by thoughts like…I’m older and wiser, I know myself, I’m not wasting time doing stuff I may not like. Know thyself? To thine own self be true? I think that crap has backfired to the point that I’ve almost forgotten who I am. I think I used to be a pretty fun gal. How do you forget yourself to the point that you aren’t allowing fun anymore?
Comfort only please. Yuck. That does suck!
So for this vacation I packed without my perfunctory list of lists- I -need- to -make. I upgraded Levi’s kennel experience to Pampered Pup. I had lunch with Caitlin spontaneously yesterday and tucked postage stamps, a check book, and the contents of the bill drawer into my suitcase. I can pay bills from the island. I can skip that Friday ritual (rut) and maybe do it on Tuesday or something.
Go Wild Thing Go!
At my man-pedi yesterday I opted for Navy toenails.
And, I laughed out loud at the video Caitlin took of Lily having her mani-pedi. The big massage chair tickled her so much she was hooting with squirmy giggles while Chau was trying to paint sparkled tiger stripes for her “beach toes.” Next Saturday when the car takes us from the airport to the land of all that is Mouse, Im going to fix my gaze on Lily and watch for the moment that her eyes light up. It’ll be when the giant ears appear atop the water tower over the tree tops. I can’t wait! That will be fun. The next 36 hours may be scripted by Dante…but that fleeting moment…when she see’s where she’s landed, that is where I will find my biggest fun of the week. Being silly without cares and with only wide-eyed expectations of sparkles and sweets…thats fun. That is the good stuff. Now I remember!
