(Disclaimer: I'm always self conscious when I talk so much about myself on my blog. I must be so self centered. But my life is fairly limited in scope, and Mike doesn't want me divulging all his crazy neuroses, so I'm left with just my own crazy brain to pick. So I guess the real question is, why do you keep coming back here to read about me? Kinda creepy, don't you think?)
(Disclaimer to the disclaimer: I apologize for the above comment. I'm trying to stop being so offensive all the time. But I keep forgetting. Now back to "My Troublesome Self"...)
The core of my being contains two diametrically opposed components. On one side, I'm an extremely ambitious, over-active, over-concerned person. On the other, what I yearn for most in life is peace. Utter peace.
One of my all-time-favorite songs is: Movin to the country, I'm gonna eat a lot of peaches. Movin to the country, I'm gonna eat me a lot of peaches. Millions of peaches, peaches for me. Millions of peaches, peaches for free.
This song embodies my deepest desire in life: I want to move to the country. I want to eat a lot of peaches. That's it. Really, that sounds so superbly, supremely wonderful to me if that's all I do for the rest of my life. To disappear into an oblivion of juicy, ripe peaches.
I picture myself in a gingham dress. I meet Mike at the door each day, apron on, with a plate of cinnamon pecan muffins freshly baked. (He doesn't actually like muffins, but I do. He'll learn.) I raise tomatoes that I eat with black pepper for lunch each day, and peaches that are our nightly meal. We walk barefoot by the river after dinner, under the cottonwoods and stars. That's what I really want. That and nothing else. No cars or projects or programs or cares.
And then there's the other side. This other side is tireless. It's led me to exercise an hour every day. It leads me to care about every need I come across. It's led me to write 3 books before 30. It leads me to always be thinking about what is next, always moving, always progressing. It leads me to dream of one day doing this, doing that, doing everything.
These two sides are not friendly bed mates. One is always kicking the other out. Like Voldemort and Harry Potter, "one cannot live while the other survives." I yearn for peace, and as soon as I get a scrap to curl up with, I start itching, the fabric rubbing and irritating me out of bed and into motion. As soon as my itch for achievement and movement is scratched, all I want, all I can think of is peace. Quiet. No striving. No working. Just peaches.
But the two things I want most I am singularly bad at enjoying.