Right now, I’m taking a break from worrying about the weather. You see, in my part of North Carolina, we’re nestled against the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, which provide us with (among other things, including all sorts of spooky goings-on that fully rational people don’t necessarily believe, but certainly respect) a certain amount of shelter from the storm. Therefore, the rest of the state might get lovely fluffy snow a time or two a year, but we usually miss out. The storms shatter against the World’s Oldest Mountains, break up, and re-form a bit further east, leaving us melancholy and wishing we’d gotten something other than sleet/freezing rain/mixed glop. Plus, it’s late February, which means (1) the camellias and daffodils have already started making an appearance and (2) really, we’re over winter and would just as soon have spring-like weather. But the weather will do what the weather will do and tomorrow is looking to be quite an icky day.
My forays into frequent self care have left me in a good position to deal with a “snow day.” (Ever since the pandemic, we don’t really get those any more, do we? So much can be done online now. Yet another Very Good Thing today’s children are likely to miss out on – an unexpected holiday, even if you can’t truly build a snowman or snow fort out of sleet.) Should the day progress in that direction, I’ve got all the necessary ingredients for lush hot chocolate, books to read in front of a gas log fireplace, cats ranging from formal tuxedoes to rakish tortoiseshells, plus “at home” entertainment such as my list of movies, along with puzzles and games to play. Some may call it low-key to the point of being boring, and they are welcome to spend their snow days as they wish. (Seriously, I spent most of an entire day this past weekend putting together a puzzle and listening to James Taylor. I was quite content.)
So let’s talk about contentedness.
There’s a story that, if it’s not true, ought to be. And it comes from Kurt Vonnegut, so I’m going to accept it as gospel. Vonnegut and Joseph Heller of Catch-22 fame, were at a fancy island party thrown by a wildly wealthy hedge fund manager. Vonnegut tells Heller that their host has made more money in a single day that Heller ever received for writing Catch-22. Heller, who must have been a hoot to hang out with, responded, “Yes, but I have something he’ll never have – enough.”
Well. That’ll stop you in your tracks.
What’s your “enough,” Diva? Think about it. Get uncomfortable with thinking about it. Then sit with that feeling for a while and think some more. You need to know the answer. What’s your “enough?” I’ve made enough trips around the sun to know that, if you’re waiting for it to come from outside, you’re always going to be hungry. If it comes with a condition, like having a comma in your bank balance after paying all the bills, or the needle on the bathroom scale stopping on a particular number – oh, my dear Diva. To be authentic, it must-must-must come from within, where the Kingdom of God is also found.
I got a glimmer of my progress this weekend when I went out doing some browsing and shopping. I was thrilled when I found a set of pastel fountain pens for $5. Finding a rack with six glass vases, perfect for growing cuttings in water (I want to try herbs next) for $5 was also a rush. But having a coupon (remember that my family’s motto is “NEVER PAY RETAIL!”) and realizing that I didn’t have to use it, since there was nothing in that store I wanted – that was a chef’s kiss of growing into my “enough” realization.
I know what I like – among them are good coffee, solving puzzles, a hot bath with a good book, quality chocolate, learning new things, the feel of whooshing downhill on a bike that I’ve worked hard to pedal uphill, and (yes) the music of James Taylor. And never forget that joy is its own form of rebellion.
Let the snow/sleet/whatever come. I have enough.
Peace to you, Divas.
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