I am sure that I would've read the likes of Goethe and Emerson and have found myself reflected there. I hope that I would have been able to sit in groups and discuss and intellectualize it all. I would hope that I would have had a strong enough belief in myself to say what I felt and do what I knew was right for me, in an age when women weren't expected, nor accepted, to. I would've been, positively, a bohemian-gypsy woman. An independent, willful, strong-jawed woman. I am sure of it.
I'd like to think that I would've been like the March family in Little Women, following their hearts and not accepted convention. They didn't attend church, but found themselves in the emerging ideas of Transcendentalism. It is so funny to me that I see some book characters as real people, and often tell myself things like,"I'm so glad Jo told me about this! I would never have heard of Goethe unless Jo had told me." But, I do seem to have a circle of most precious book friends that advise me, make me laugh and cry, and I enjoy imagining what they are doing when I close the pages of the book.
I wonder what Anne is up to (I never liked the continuing story of her and Gilbert in the war, but wanted to pretend that they lived with Marilla at Green Gables, and raised many children and Anne was ever my friend), and think on Jane Eyre who quietly married Mr. Rochester, and they had one child, a boy, and that they lived happily in a little cottage and raised Adele as their own. Jo and Frederick just live down the way in their big house turned school. I imagine that they never did have their own children, but dedicated their entire lives to the children at their school, and we all met regularly to discuss the likes of Thoreau, Emerson, and Goethe. It is a pretty picture I paint...and sometimes the worlds we create in our minds can be just as real as the one we live in.
I am thankful, though, for the world I live in now. The one in which I have attained every dream I could've ever wanted...I went to school to be a teacher, I met the one whom my soul loves, I had two most precious sweet little babies, I have the old cat who sleeps on my feet - my lap - my shoulder, I have chickens who give me eggs and satisfaction, I have some land to do what I want to with, I have a comfortable home that I don't always appreciate, I have my mom, I have my dad, I have my brother, I have some very sweet-kindred adopted-family members, my friends know me and still love me, my friends seek me out, I've inspired women to create, I've owned an art gallery, I've owned my own art business, and I've found myself on journey. I should smile every single day, don't you think.
Why is it that we can count our blessings and be happy for a moment and then think of the stupidest things to bring us down like, "Yes, but I'm a terrible housekeeper." That was NEVER a dream of mine anyway. I never grew up saying, "And yes, I shall have spotless windows and a toilets so clean you could eat off of them (ick, why did I say that)..." No, I wanted a Happy Home, a home full of laughing and running, and I dreamt of quiet evenings by the fire with everyone doing their little quiet things together...and guess what...we DO that!!! I've created the life I wanted to live, and I have to remember that all of that laughing and running and quiet evenings means that I have made a decision that I have to be content with a certain amount of dust and dirt and grossness in order to have fun. HA! So there!
It reminds me of that little old proverb, "Quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep. I'm playing with my babies, and babies don't keep." I am so glad to live in the here and now where I can have all that I have right now. I am thankful for the freedom to believe and do what I want, the freedom to create the kind of life my family and I live right now. I am thankful for the friends I have in the real world. I am thankful that life is messy...if it weren't, I wouldn't appreciate the sweetness.
Today, I am thinking of all that I have in this moment, and letting it fill my heart to the brim and propel me ever forward.