In The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath writes, "There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." I think the same thing could be said about a cup of tea. Last night I fell asleep on the couch. I had been reading the excellent A Three Dog Life by Abigail Thomas and despite how glued to that I really was, it being winter (I know, I'm blaming it for everything), me still being sinusy, the heater hissing soothingly and my dear Fellow Traveller playing his violin in the study, I thought I would rest my eyes for just a minute. An hour later I woke up. If someone had asked me my current mood at that precise moment, I would have said 'relaxed and thoughtful'. I decided to make a cup of tea and while I was waiting for the kettle to boil, I being both the overly introspective soul that I am and still 'relaxed and thoughtful' (the journey into the cold kitchen hadn't squashed that out of me yet), I started to mull things over.
Now you may've noticed - or maybe it's not that clear yet - that this blog is a bit about a journey. My journey to, I guess, work myself out a bit after what I feel has been a long time of expecting one thing, expecting a certain direction, and then being horribly disappointed and angry with the world at large when it didn't pan out. I am wary of pop-psychology speak but I suppose I am trying to 'own' what goes on in my life, carve my own path and not wait anymore for other people to do what I imagine they should be doing and then blame them when things don't happen as I imagined they would.
So, while I was pouring the water into my cup, a thought came to me. Perhaps this is just as it should be. It's not original, I know, and far greater and wiser minds than mine have already come up with it and expressed it far more eloquently. But for the first time I could really see how it applied to me. Perhaps everything is happening just as it should. No more 'I should have done this...', 'Everything would be different if I had...' I didn't. I did what I did because this is how it should be. Then, more than a little spookily, I read the following in A Three Dog Life:
"I was between lives. "What is it?" I asked. "What is it we are longing for?" He thought a minute and said "There isn't any it. There is just the longing for it." This sounded exactly right. Years later and a little wiser, I know what the longing was for: here is where I belong." (page 30)
There is a lot of stuff tied to these ideas, I know - fate, destiny, all sorts of things - and I would really love to hear what you think.
