Midlife Crisis

I have been feeling melancholy lately. Don't get me wrong . . . I am happy, enjoying life, and everything is "fine." I am reading my scriptures, and saying my prayers, like a good little girl. But I feel like I am at a crossroads. I feel like I am on the brink . . . the brink of something. 

I have a great desire to settle down, or rather, plant my roots. To find that place . . . that place where I (we) belong. (There may not even be such a place, but I have to believe there is.) I am also really trying to figure out what I want out of life. I could go on doing what I am doing forever, the way that I am currently doing it, I suppose. But I feel like there is more . . . there must be more . . . to life. To my life.

My problem is: I just don't know what I want out of life? (I am talking about temporally, more than spiritually -- though they are tightly connected!)

Result: I wander aimlessly without direction or purpose, besides basic survival. I am just running around like a crazy-chicken without a goal or desire to fuel my passion for life.

I don't know exactly what I want out of life, but I do know one thing for certain: I want to live an authentic life. 

Right now I live in a cookie-cutter neighborhood, with houses a little too close to each other, and I get a note on the door if I forget to pull a weed from the front yard. The house we are renting is undoubtedly beautiful on the inside, and out. It is a sought-after, lovely, glorious place to live. There are paved trails, swimming pools, tennis courts, and every desirable man-crafted thing. I am so grateful we found this home to rent, it was/is a miracle, and I recognize it as such.

But it is not my idea of long-term happiness. (I use the word "happiness" loosely, since temporal things can not really bring true happiness.) Perhaps I should say, it does not cause me to feel a sense of well-being.

Anyhow, before renting this home we lived in a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom house. I knew when we made the decision to buy that little home that we would be tight, and that the home and yard needed a frightful amount of work to be done. I knew putting all 5 of us in that home would be a challenge, but I LOVE (and thrive) in a challenge of that nature. I love to do things that others would not want to do, or think to do. I love to live a unique life -- not a cookie-cutter life. I am not sure if it is even ok to "want" like I do . . . but I guess I just want something more. Something more than the same . . . as everyone else.

Right now I am living a cookie-cutter life. And it is not as sugar-and-sprinkles as it would appear. At least not for me . . .

Which leaves me to wonder what I really want . . . or rather, where I want my life to be lived. (I say "I" but I mean my whole family, of course!)

I was recently visiting a ward in Midway, Utah, where Elder Jeffrey R. Holland lives. He and his wife were in the ward the week we were there, and his wife shared how they "knew" that Midway was where they were supposed to live. They even met with some serious challenges on their property (having to do with a spring of water on their land) but they persevered, and made it work. It gave me great comfort that they felt that way. That they, too, wanted to find the "right" place for them. And they found it.

THAT is what I am looking for. Finding that place, that homestead . . . HOME. (Brigham Young said, "This is the place" when he got to Utah . . . that can happen for me, too? Right?) I suppose it is because I had that when I was growing up. My home was magic. Home was everything to me. I want that for my children. And it is not JUST in location, but a feeling that is created . . . wherever you are. But some places are admittedly easier to create atmosphere in!

We took a trip recently, to get away from the rat-race. We needed to view the world in a different light. We needed to shake-it-up a little, and to realize there is more to life than the daily grind. It was such a fantastic trip. It was desperately needed, and I am grateful we could just go.

The cabin/home we went to was out in the boondocks. The people owned farm-land, and animals, and horses. A long time ago, when I first met Charles, I had a vision of our future -- a little snapshot, if you will. The image was on a farm, with animals. It was us, together, our family. I told Charles about this glimpse -- of what seemed like the future -- so he can confirm it.

I want to make that image happen. I want to have a little farm -- nothing big and crazy -- but a place where we can work the land and make it thrive. It will take work, hard work. It will take hard work to get there, and hard work once we are there. But I believe it would be worth it. I like hard work. I thrive when I am working hard, and I dwindle when I am left to laziness. I love to feel sweat pouring down my dirt-covered face. I love to till the land, and make something grow that was not there before. I love to see a diamond in the rough, and I love to be the one to polish it.

I want a garden. I want a home full of warmth and comfort, a safe haven from the world. I want to be more self-sufficeint. I want a horse . . . I really do. After being around horses the last few days, it has made it that much more of a desire in my heart.

When my parents had a midlife crisis they moved from Arizona to Alaska for a year, and then went back to Arizona for awhile, before moving to Alaska permanently. It's a good thing they did that -- following their "dream" -- because their last 3 children (me, Beth, and John) all found our spouses in Alaska. Sometimes following your dream is essential!

So, my midlife crisis has lead me to dust off my dreams, and pull them to the forefront of my mind.

Now to make it happen . . .