We had a Memorial Day barbeque this past weekend on a day that happened to be one of my daughter’s worst days ever! In between bites of watermelon and taking my turn at the grill, I sat with her, encouraged her to be alone if she needed, and wiped away her constant and ginormous tears. Patience was my middle name (Woe was hers). I held her and listened.
How could you not when your child looks like this?
Oh, the heartache!
***
I’ve been writing something with the intent to publish it for a few weeks, but I never post something that doesn’t honestly reflect where I am in the moment. (Noted: if it’s taken weeks to write, likely the moment has passed.)
I had written a small treatise on my pursuit of happiness (aka zest!*), and my commitment to find more, to be more, to see more joy and adventure in my world.
It is real and true.
Yet there is a part that was as incongruous as my description of my six year-old next to the images of her hopping around in the yard.
I’d made a big point about how sometimes I feel lost, like I am untethered from my dreams (true). That sometimes I feel like I’m phoning it in, doing what needs to get done to pass the days (also true).
And as I was thinking and writing this, my intuition went into overdrive. Something was missing! Where there is truth, there could be an equal and opposite truth. There are two sides to the coin.You can be lost and still be solidly grounded in the present. You can impatiently and half-heartedly pack lunches and still be a good mother.
Into my mind popped a conversation I had with my rabbi about living more consistently with my values, integrating the practices of my beliefs into my life with care, intention, great spirit and connection and how I am often frustrated with feeling like I’m not doing enough, knowing I could do more.
The rabbi wisely said (in so many words), you want consistency? To always act the same? To constantly move forward, reaching only towards your potential and never falling short?
Get over it. You’re human. You have ups and downs. Such is life.
My coach’s words echoed in my head: savor what’s happening, stop looking for what’s missing.
Then I read the words of another great teacher, Karen Kimsey-House. In her post “Water the Fruit Trees, Not the Thorns,” she writes about her experience in a class on body image, in the incongruity of how we see ourselves and how others see us:
I remember being shocked at the vast discrepancy between what these women saw when they looked at themselves in the mirror and what I saw. At times, it was as if we were looking at two completely different images. When it came my turn, I was once again surprised at the discrepancy between what I saw and what others saw. Except this time, the roles were reversed. I was the one standing in front of the mirror. As I heard the words of others, my image of myself began to shift.
There is truth in my struggle, of course. But there is also a greater truth that I am tapping into, something quite the opposite of struggling. The image I have of my life has begun to shift. I can’t keep thinking that my life isn’t one great adventure when all the evidence that surrounds me tells me that it is.
I am working from a new perspective in which I am engaged in living my story as an epic tale, filled with romance, intrigue, hope and laughter. I find my old story — the mental soap opera, not the life history — tired and boring.
It’s time for a new chapter; this marks the beginning of my quest for zest.*
What is your quest?
*Per the VIA Survey, the quality of Zest/Enthusiasm/Energy is defined as regardless of what you do, you approach it with excitement and energy. You never do anything halfway or halfheartedly. For you, life is an adventure.


My quest in life is for my children to be happy and contented ..I think discontentment is one of the most destroying emotions we have…I am happy to say I feel content in my life and hope that feeling is passed on to my children.Eliza Keating
OOppps ..and also wanted to say how very nice to meet you and read your wonderful pages..Eliza
Eliza, welcome! Thank you for being here and for your kind words. I am working on remembering my contentedness – I think I am more fulfilled than I often allow myself to feel, and I agree that modeling this is a beautiful thing for our children to see. I look forward to reading more of your words.
oh yeah!
Karen, thank you so much for giving this peek into what looks like a major shift. I see your zest, it sparkles in your eyes, and can feel your inspired-ness from here!
I definitely share your quest for zest. Mine has threads of tenacity and vigor mixed into it, oh, and a just-right amount of not taking myself too seriously.
Lydia – Bingo! Not taking the self too seriously resonates deeply with me, too. I’m glad the zest is visible – sometimes it is hard for me to recognize, but I know it’s not buried too deep. : )