a mutinous contentment

a few days ago, i f0und myself on that familiar and dangerous precipice whereby i do something completely and irresponsibly impulsive. #aries.

ergo, impulsive is my middle name.

followed by my other middle names - responsible and sensible.

i'm an enigma, even unto myself.

seriously, though.

i get this feeling periodically where i'm overcome by the urge to utter that, oft-uttered prayer - fuckit!  [thank you, Nicole] -  and, consequences be-damned, follow my impulses.

and who's to say my impulses aren't firmly rooted in my intuition - which, if i may say so myself - is of the mad-skillz variety?


my current impulses are a result of having fallen down a rabbit-hole of Thinky-Thoughts regarding contentment.



it all started when i read this post.

and then this one.

Jo's post rang all the bells for me -- her writing usually does, seeing as how we twin* fairly often.

what if i'm actually quite happy?

what if -- imagine! -- i already have everything i need?

what would that mean?**

ye gods!




i'm a restless soul - i always have been.

i suffer from a chronic and profound case of hiraeth.

none of that is going to change, and i'd rather it didn't; it's part of who i am and how i move through the world.

but on a daily, mundane level -- i'm actually, overall, quite content.

i have a happy job, surrounded by lovely people, doing simple, Good, work that allows me to be outdoors and in direct contact with my beloved horses. i have two healthy children, a kind, supportive husband and the best family in all the universe.

roof over head? check.

food on table? check.

sure, there's things i'd like to change -- adjustments i want to make, and will,  to further deepen and enrich all of those aforementioned Good Things. but otherwise? pig-in-shit happy.

of course, that's isn't terribly fashionable, i know.  we're all supposed to be striving to Be More and Do More or, at least, that's what the Voices tell us. there are entire entrepreneurial empires built on that premise, after all. it's a difficult message to avoid.

i bought into it for a long time. i spent a great deal of time -- and money -- trying to sort out what it was that i was missing and how to retrieve/create it.

but i'm not doing that anymore - simply because i'm not convinced i'm actually missing anything.




and the other post?

that one got me remembering things my grandparents used to say...and my older aunts...about how a person was "content with their lot" and "didn't want for anything".

what a glorious state to be in - to be quietly happy with things!

i mean - how much do we really need?

far, far less than we imagine, i think.



so -- my impulse?

well - Responsible and Sensible have managed to talk me back from the original precipice, although i still have my toes curled slightly over the edge - but it looked a lot like packing in my job and withdrawing to live a quiet, contemplative, life.

something of a blend of monasticism, flavoured with a hint of hermit; growing all of the veg, selling all of the eggs, baking all of the bread. you know, that sort of thing.

only without having to get up at 3am to partake of Gregorian chants.

extreme? perhaps.

is there a middle ground somewhere?

i rather like to think so.

in the meantime, i'm going to continue to amble along, unfashionably happy and with rebellious delight, through my analogue days and daydreams, quite intent on being content.

~m. xo

*there are a few lovely people of the internets with whom i often and repeatedly seem to be experiencing the Exact Same Thing- whether in thought, deed or action. call it coincidence, call it synchronicity, call it whatever you like -- i call it magic.

**it's a deeper and more complex notion that simply being happy with the present moment - i believe it has to do with understanding, acknowledging and surrendering to natural rhythms and cycles; knowing that we tread the spiral up, down and around again -- that our path isn't linear. 'happiness', after all, is always a transient thing. what persists, for me,  is reverence and quiet acquiescence to a wisdom far older than my own.