On the Wings of Indecision

"I can’t even decide what box I want. See how confused I am? How full of indecision I’ve become?" We stood in the aisle surrounded by round, square, and rectangular boxes with flaps, lids, latches, and handles as I pointed out my obvious wavering to my friend. There were frou-frou boxes covered in scenes from Paris, retro boxes adorned with a lady in a full-skirt dress that looked like she’d stepped out of a 50s magazine, mules with a fluff of fur standing pretty on pink stripes, brilliant red poppies on black, and scenes from the seaside. I loved them all and couldn’t decide which I wanted. I stood in that aisle for a good ten minutes opening and closing boxes, trying to imagine a stack on my desk. MJ offered me a 40% off coupon, listened to my ridiculous complaining about how I seem to have misplaced myself, made sound suggestions, and then walked on leaving me to mull over the choices. In the end, I gave her back the coupon and left without a box.

This is a small view into my current wishy-washy self. I cannot decide who I am or who I want to be. In the past I always knew, I was the daughter of...I was the sister of...I was the wife of...I was the mother of...I lived in the country on a farm in a house built in 1870. Gardening was near the top of my love-to-do list. I decorated our home with antiques, heirlooms and items purchased at antique shops and auctions. Bringing small bits of history back to life thrilled me. Books and reading were an integral part of my life. Yearning for something more so ingrained that I breathed it in and out like the dusty air in the old barn until I nearly choked.

Here I am years later feeling lost after taking a year to find myself in the place of my dreams. I did what I’m guessing most people never have the opportunity to do. I should count myself among the luckiest of lucky, yet I feel as if I’m a teenager who just can’t quite figure life out. It’s ok to be indecisive when you’re 16 or even 26, but eventually shouldn’t I figure this trip out?

Who am I...

I’m a woman

I love my children and grandson

I love my siblings and their families

I adore my friends

I love writing; satisfies my passion

I find freedom in photography

Reading takes me places I could never go

I love to create

I love water: oceans, seas, lakes, and rivers...it’s where I find serenity

I love flowers

I love flower gardens more than vegetable gardens

Poetry is beauty in words in my microcosm of the world

Music can bring me to my knees

Pretty clothes make me swoon

High heels excite me

Art inspires me

I prefer boutiques and out of the way shops over the mall

Farmers’ Markets are the best way to buy vegetables and fruits in my book

I believe there’s a Zen to baseball, but not basketball

The sexiest thing a man can wear is
a button-down oxford shirt with his sleeves rolled up

I have a paper, pen, and notebook fetish

The color pink enchants me

I want to believe Santa Claus, angels, the Easter bunny, and fairies exist

Where am I in this list of things? How can I love the truly sublime, yet find a fascination with the basest portions of life? Can I be such a juxtaposition of opposites all rolled into one mind, body, and soul? Perhaps it’s just the dark side of me warring with the light. This is why I have two blogs...one is light and the other can become dark from time to time. I just wish I knew in which camp I truly reside. I’m hoping I’m just like everybody else, layered in experiences, loves, likes, and dislikes. Maybe it’s time to spread my wings and fly once more...I just wish I knew where to.



*Photos taken by me over the weekend outside the Toledo Museum of Art.  The statue is 'Wings' by sculptor Carl Milles, circa 1908.