perspective

In college, I took a drawing class.  One of our assignments was to draw a picture using two point perspective.  Basically, you find a point on the paper that intersects with the horizon line.  Then from the outside corners, you draw straight lines until they hit the dot.  This is one point perspective - you draw your picture using the lines as a guide.  However, two point perspective requires a bit more effort.  You add a second point and from the top of the paper, you draw lines to that dot.  When you draw, say, a building, now the depth of the picture is from dot number one, but the height of the picture is from dot number two.

In summary, having a different perspective is hard to achieve without effort.

When I graduated from college, I moved to Denver, Colorado and was working a full-time job.  The job had potential and I was looking into doing more school.  I was enjoying life.  I had, years earlier, come to the conclusion, that I was special as myself and that if marriage presented itself as a possibility, that would be a plus, but I could be happy without because I had plans.  I dreamed big.  I had aspirations and goals to achieve.  I felt like everything had just sort of clicked.

Then I met the Mr.  I'll be honest when I say that after the first date, I pretty much knew he would change my life forever.  I remember him asking me if I wanted to be a mother.  I said yes, but really I had never expected it because I hadn't really expected to find him.  It was a really unplanned plan where I hoped I would be happy.

When we got married, I felt a bit like I was wafting in air - it was a big change for me and I had a hard time finding my bearings.  About a year later, Miss A was in my life.  I went from single, with big plans and goals and dreams to married and a stay at home mom of one.

Ever since then,  it has been a struggle, on again and off again, to find a way to deal with lost dreams, goals, and aspirations.  This may seem selfish as I know I have so much to be grateful for, however, the feelings have been real and hiding them or lying about them seems to add dishonesty to the selfishness.

I'd heard many opinions, talks at church, well-meaning men and women, parents, and siblings tell me that I could still have my dreams or that putting my family first would bring more happiness, or that I should be more grateful. Or they would say, you're so lucky or you're so blessed.

In my mind though, my lingering disappointment of having dead dreams was sad and made me sad.  Maybe it's that I wasn't allowed to properly mourn the loss of my dreams because, "I should be so grateful" and I knew I should be grateful.*

I have thought about this a lot. Almost daily.  For almost 7 years. I've tried to come up with new dreams.  I've tried new hobbies and tried filling time with hopefully worth while pursuits.  However, after a few years,  I felt the deep desire to just give up.  I couldn't have the dreams that I had and the new ones seemed like cheap substitutes.  I've felt the motivation slip.  I've felt the vivacity of the world slip to a sort of creamy beige.

And then yesterday I got a phone call from Paris.

I think nine years ago I met Melanie in the Denver singles ward at church.  We were good friends.  She started an international food night where a group would get together and try new cuisine (incidentally, it's at one of those nights that I met the Mr.).  She is a lawyer and a powerful woman.  I look up to her.  She had some really rough times in her past but she took them and found an inner strength that I admire.

Well, time slips by.  Her and I are 'friends' on facebook.  We kept in touch, sort of.  I knew where she lived and that was basically it.  At one point, I picked up on the fact that she was moving to Paris.  She had worked at a law firm in Washington DC and then was a law professor in Texas.  But an opportunity came and now she's practicing law for an international non-profit in Paris.

We talked for over an hour.  She told me about her job and about culture shock.  She told me about the tricky decisions she was facing in regards to her career.  We talked about my kids a bit.  We talked about some funny dates she'd had lately.  We talked about things she was doing at church.

At one point she said, "I don't like posting pictures so much anymore about where I am because people get jealous of it.  I know it's beautiful and exciting, but the truth is, you can catch a cold in Paris too.  You still have to do laundry and pay bills and I still come home at night by myself and it's too quiet."

Perspective.  She wants to have the kind husband and the precious children.  But that's not where she is right now in life.  I want to be making a difference, internationally, enjoying other cultures and ventures, but that's not where I am right now.  Can she have a family? Yes.  Can I make a difference? Yes.  But for both of us, it was a lesson on enjoying where we are right now.  I've heard the grass is always greener on the other side, but really I saw what my life could have been without being married.  It wasn't just on the other side, it was like looking into the mirror of my other life.  And it is good.  However, it isn't everything.  It had it's shortfalls.  It has it's deep disappointments, just like my life now isn't perfect.

That one hour conversation has helped me put aside some of those feelings from the past.  It was like I had been walking backwards for 7 years.  I was still walking, but not really enjoying the view.  Yesterday, I turned around.  I hope now to see the new horizon for what it is and enjoy the new possibilities.  I hope I can maintain the new perspective as it has released me from years of emotional bondage.

*I want to make sure it is in here somewhere how glad I am to have my husband and children.  I have really beautiful and special moments with them that I would never give away.  I cherish them.  I laugh with them.  I cry.  I scream.  I chuckle.  I dream with them.  I hope. I pray. I learn... the list goes on.