Having It All

I want to be prolific. I want to lie down.

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I want to be prolific. I also want to lie down. For hours. Maybe days. I want to stare into my beloved’s eyes so that thing starts happening where we both feel like we are floating.

I fantasize, wiggling my nose like a bunny, bewitching these house renovations to completion so I can spend hours upon hours reading all the lines from all the books on my shelves that incessantly paw at my insides nary a care in the world.

It seems there isn't enough time to do all that I want when I want, and the thought of not finishing makes me feel like I’ll burst into tears the way I throw up: all of a sudden, all at once—projectile style. 

I’m forever longing to stretch time and pluck out the moments I like best, a slow motion of rose-tinged memories that crowd out the mundane and morose.

Balancing a life I love with my ambitions feels like entering the last leg of my current hero’s journey. Resurrected and birthed anew, I’ve returned to the person I’ve always been but was forced to abandon whilst crossing the threshold from life before death to life after, replete with wisdom and courage yet not entirely acclimated to solid ground and the ticking of time.

I survived the Fire Swamp, made it through the innermost cave, and then got spat out into bliss.

Earned every damn bit.

In my personal life, I’ve reached the pinnacle of happiness. However, there is still so much to do, and staring into each other’s eyes like Thumper and Miss Bunny—utterly twitterpated—does not design a home, finish books on the shelves, or get these words written.

In short, my time management is dookie because my life is so damn fun right now.

And perhaps that’s my answer.

Lean into the fun, lean into love, lean into making our house a home, and allow the rest to simmer whilst we build the foundation of the rest of our lives. Life doesn’t always need to be a rolling boil; it’s low and slow that creates the most tender sustenance. 

But I am greedy for happiness.
I shovel it into my soul’s maw, and it screams: MORE!
Wringing out every last drop of joy from life has become my primary objective, and I’ve finally become good at it. Like a mad scientist, I’ve cracked the equation and won the funding, and now I want to work around the clock building this life with my best friend. I also want to hit every personal goal I’ve set for myself.

Even amongst my tenderness, I’m an overachiever in my attempt to convince myself that I can do it all and become a strict machine, an island of one that compartmentalizes and manages time with the precision of an IT Project Manager. 

But I am no strict machine. I am delicate and human, and I exist amongst the unpredictability of this world and this city. My meat suit. Life in general.

There is great wisdom in knowing your limits.

Oh, balance, you beautiful, elusive minx.
Just when I thought I’ve wooed you into my embrace, you’ve vanished.

It’s like the all-seeing eye of the Universe is staring down at me, asking: Do you wish to go farther? Are you ready for more?

I can’t help but answer: I do! I am!

I’ll do it exhausted. I’ll do it, terrified. I’ll embrace appearing foolish for as long as it takes to move into mastery because I do not want to meet the person I’d become if I stopped trying. 

I haven’t quite struck a balance that matches the rhythm of my life required to feel like I’m not tripping over dropped balls. I don’t know that I ever will, but my God, am I having the time of my life, laughing as we both tumble over one another when we attempt to figure it all out together, hand in hand. 

Isn’t that what it all comes down to anyway?

There are days I wish I didn’t care so much, didn’t want so much, didn’t feel that mad deep ache that had always propelled me forward even when I wanted to throw my body down to the ground and say enough; I’m done. 

It’s also what I love most about myself, what kept me alive, safe, and believing in dreams and infinite possibilities. 

Accepting both is the work of a lifetime.

So, I’ll keep stretching my limbs out to hold the fullness of my life, I’ll ache and bruise, I’ll yelp and shriek, and maybe I’ll even throw in a nap or two, but what I won’t do is stop.
I will always rise to meet my life with the fury of a thousand Moo Dengs.

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Love always,

Jenovia

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