The Magic of the Mundane

       

              

It's been awhile...

   It appears clear that you can spend almost all of your precious time searching for a more purposeful existence. Longing for the truth of why your feet touch the ground and your lungs flow with air. We can write about the things we aspire to do with tomorrow, and face a great feat when those inspirations are of no interest when tomorrow shows.

 

Seemingly our words to ourselves are meaninglessly exhausted time and time again. In my experience, perhaps steering my focus on the present moment...would lead to a greater joy that has yet been discovered. 

With every day that passes I find myself increasingly out of touch with the modernist. It feels like I've been losing my mind as I cut ties with the realities of the world for all this time. I have grown accustomed to being fearless in a world without solidarity.

With this new practice of purposeful solitude I have unraveled the magic of the mundane. Without tactful planning of unrealistic ideals I have discovered a heavenly corner of my mind. You see, serenity is not something to be sought. We carry it with us always, and it waits there patiently for you to seek its truth.

Fulfillment can be shaped, I have met it in the mornings when I have hung my feet over my bedside and felt the gentle embrace and warmth of a new day. Oftentimes when I tie my kitchen apron and drape it over my ever growing belly (with child), I warmly welcome the truth of being a newly devoted mother. Every passing day I provide nourishment and a safe place to hold my ever growing family and that has become my strength without the guilt of wanting something more to prove.

  If I could provide an ounce of encouragement to a restless and wondering mind it would be this, cease trying to create an ever changing ideal life and simply just wake up and live it day by day. Open your heart to the great pleasures of living like the main character in a storybook, except let the story be no one's to claim but your own. Don't be afraid of romanticism, the very best memories are made to be simple and attainable. Never allow your words to become weapons used against you. 

  The very same weighted weapons I have once carried and become tangled in, had led me to a state of unforgiving idleness that held me back from living a life of true and unique happiness. 

 A life led simpler provides comfort I have never known. I have granted myself a great deal of kindness by not putting pressure on myself to become something more than I am comfortable. 

So here I am, planted barefoot in the ground... a pocketful of wildflowers and a book to strengthen my imagination. The sky is blue and the sun is bright, and that is not promised tomorrow.

With that comes the magic of the mundane.