Learning to Be

With all of the so-called "growing up" I've done, I feel as if I will always be just a little girl.  There's so much about life to wonder about, to be in awe about, to discover, to learn.  This is the mind of a child: wondering, hungry for insight and instruction.  The older I get, the stronger this quality seems to grow.  The sight of a ladybug causes me to put everything on hold just to watch it and wonder.  How does the ladybug feel, I wonder.  What is she thinking?  How does she fit into the big picture of Life?  I'm just like a little three year-old!  You can leave me in a nursery with no toys (OUTSIDE of my crib, please!), and I'll find amusement in playing with my feet or in contemplating the bump on the wall.  Long as you leave me be, I'm just fine.  No entertainment necessary;  I'll make my own!

I suppose I'm learning to love myself, that is, learning to give myself what I really need.  And...I guess what I really need to do is allow myself to be the perpetual child.  Not in the sense that I refuse to accept or uphold responsibility, but in the sense that I need to view everything in life as something brand new and undiscovered, like I've never seen it before.  Sure, this makes a grown, 30 year-old woman seem like a naive little pushover.  But, so what?  God always seems to send just the right person or situation to protect me at just the right time.  So then..., why should I care?

So, I don't apologize anymore for my carefree attitude or naivete, or doe-eyed, aloof, head-in-the-clouds stares, or my giggliness, or the heart stitched on my sleeve, or my fountain-of-youth looks, or even the fact that I need solitude, and privacy, and space...and a LOT of it, thank you!

Yeah...I like cupcakes, and fairy tales, and ruffles, and gag-me pink, and vast meadows of flowers, and butterflies, and everything girly and romantic!

No, I'm NOT career-driven, and if you ask me what I'm gonna "DO" with my life and where's my list of ways of how I'm gonna make a ga-zillion bucks in this great, big, fat, overly-industrialized, nothing's-worth-doin'-unless-you're-making-a-dollar, *gasp*-who-am-I-without-my-job-or-my-degree nation, I'll tell you I don't know, 'cuz I 'm too busy trying to just BE!

Amongst all the noise, I've found a sweet pleasure in walking to the beat of my own drum, carving my own path, forging a road where none exists.  No asking how or why, because I won't know until I get there. 

I've learned that to live is to simply BE, that is, to be all that God created me to be.  Not just in the uniqueness of my personality, but in the depth of my character.  I want my life to reflect HIS nature, because I love Him, and He loves me.

Thus, to be is to love.  To love is not to get what I want out of everything and everybody, but to give what is needed. 

And what I need is to be.

Body Wash and the "Complexities" of Life

Ok...so, I spent nearly twenty minutes or so deciding on a body wash.  That's right, body wash.  What's interesting is that I wasn't the only one.  A handful of folks (mainly women) slowed their pace sniffing, poking, testing...all to find the right body wash.  I mean, how could one choose?  With dozens of brands and even more selections of scents among each brand, how could I find that perfect bottle with the perfect scent that would incite visions of an English garden, or satin sheets, or a Caribbean sunset with each squirt and lather...and all for under five bucks? :/

Wait a minute, I thought.  I'm not trying to smell like a tropical dessert here.  I just wanna be CLEAN, for Pete's sake!  Then, I shook myself, grabbed a refreshing bottle of Zest for $2.97, and off I was to complete my grocery list and get the heck out of there.       

I may be reaching here, but when did taking a shower become so complicated?  When did toiletry shopping become such a treasure hunt?   And why?  All that stands before you on the shelves is a smorgasboard of the same carbon-copied goop packaged into a variety of colorful containers designed to make you spend an unreasonable average of $5 a bottle or more so that you can feel like you're in paradise for 5-15 minutes a day.  Or for the men, the right body wash will be the difference between a chick-less loser and a ladies' man...seriously? 

Let's get real.  Body wash can't cure depression, and Old Spice still stinks on a jerk.

In the meantime, I want to live a complex life, uncomplicated.  A life where I spend more of my time to indulge in the wonders and beauty of Life and God's creation, and less on being sucked into capitalistic mind games...

Here's to being "Zestfully clean"!