Eat, Pray, Love, Write...

At 33 I know oh so much more about myself and the world than I did when I was 23. And I suspect that, given a few more years, I should be very wise. Or at least I will think I am, until life throws me its next curve and I learn from that. I’ve been in a very “zen” place the last few months, as the realization has come to me that happiness does not come from friendship, relationships, work, or activities. True happiness is laughing at yourself when you are putting on your mascara and not really caring that the eye makeup that you just spent 10 minutes on is ruined by a black smear across your face. You just grab that washcloth and start from scratch. As busy and as stressed as my life can get (especially recently) I have really learned to just enjoy life as it is, without the extra bells and whistles.

I think this realization can only happen when your brain hits overload. It’s like rebooting the mainframe of a computer. (Did I say that right? I know nothing about rebooting, unless it’s the action of replacing knee high leather boots with a new pair….) In the world of today there are so many opportunities and choices, that the options are really endless. And sometimes those endless options can put us in a state of utter panic. When the answer to most questions asked can be a “yes,” how do we say “no”?

I am in the midst of one of those weeks where I have scheduled myself to the max. A phone call will come in for another event and I say “Yes, yes I can meet you at 10 a.m. before my 11 a.m. event with a list of 20 or so things to do in between. Yes, yes I will finish my article before I go to sleep Tuesday night. Yes, yes of course I can hem those pants and steam out that dress, and and and and and. . .” Yikes. Coffee is definitely my friend at the moment. Yes, this week is brought to you by Caribou coffee baristas and my home coffee maker. Thank you Maxwell House. I sometimes feel like there should be a huge clock counting down my to-do list, with a nasty sounding buzzer when I add something I shouldn’t. Hmm, back to that “zen” idea. . .

I think that realization really came to me after talking with a young person that I was mentoring through a local Upward Bound program. We were having a conversation about things to do and the ever-popular theme of the day “There’s nothing to do around here. We need more places to hang out and do stuff.” (It was also then that I realized the age gap between a 15 year-old and my 33 year-old self.) I’m sure at some point as a 15 year-old I uttered those words. But looking back, I don’t really think they were uttered all that often. I was always doing “something.” But, I thought, maybe I had more opportunities to be in programs, maybe the school experience is really different with all of the budget cuts and compromises. But looking back, that wasn’t it either. I had the realization that I had always been happy with minimal outside intervention. “Quiet Time” when I was younger was spent crafting parachutes out of handkerchiefs and little baskets and inventing ways to pull them up again (a metal hanger, a lot of yarn and a good aim). Solving 4th grade “crime” with our detective agency, writing and performing our own plays, making necklaces out of beads that I think my parents were vacuuming up for about a decade after that good idea started—these activities didn’t require electronic devices or places to “hang out.” I can confidently say that then and now, I could be stuck in a room by myself and still be entertained. Actually, that sounds like a great option right now.

As I’m writing this, it’s raining outside, and the steady rumble of thunder is actually pretty calming. The realization that the rain is going to make hauling clothing in and out of event sites less than optimal is just starting to hit me, but for now I am going to grab a cup of that warm yummy coffee, sit in my chair, relish the noisy quiet of the storm, and take a few moments to just be happy. Sometimes it’s just that simple.

Suzanne Rian is a fashionista and the owner/operator of Moxie boutique in the Reed Building on First Avenue in Hibbing.