44 years into this gig I still don't know how it all works. I'm unsure of myself sometimes and worry that I've proceeded confidently, sometmes arrogantly, into a position of no return from a place nowhere on any map.
That said, I know exactly what I'm doing because all the stuff that matters is going just fine. I have barrelled through all that insecurity and ill-preparation to make sure every time the path clears I'm taking my values and my priorities with me. They may deny me for their own sakes', but never I, them.
I do have a Sunday kind of love and in case you were wondering (and to borrow a phrase) it's real and it's fabulous.
My children look like they come with the frame and while, most times, I'm humbled by God's generosity in this respect, every once in a while I look at my chubby little self in the mirror and grin shamelessly. I made those babies and - they - are - awesome!
I work hard. I get up early like my grandfather, to give as much of the day my effort because that's what my family deserves. I am devoted to my family like nobody's business, but my family includes friends and neighbors and people who just need some love, because as mima would tell me, 'quien vale mas?' (who is worth more?). And I do my level best never to let anyone see how tired I am, because my mom always thought the effect of one's good work was dilluted if others felt the pain in your back or the swell of your feet.
My clients think I care about them as people. In fact, I do. And I rejoice quite personally in handing over those keys and knowing I've sent someone else home. There is, indeed, no place like it.
My home is beautiful on the outside and in, even if she could use a little work here and there. She is tired and worn in places, but she's open and loving and generous with her gifts. I like to think she reflects me very honestly.
I'm not done yet so I can totally relate to the 'miles to go before I rest' feeling. I've got lots to do yet and some of it is daunting from my current vantage point. I don't let that deter me.
I'm satisfied with myself, if not always pleased, and there's great comfort in knowing I am who I am.
Some twenty-five years ago I dreamed I'd be right here. Maybe I didn't envision the bag of troubles I carry with me, but who sullies dreams with troubles? And how does one expect to get anywhere without a few pebbles in the path? My back is, in fact, sore and my feet swell and my hands show the number of times I've plunged them into hot and cold water. That's o.k. I can still carry a few bags on my way to where I'm going.
For now, this is where I'm at. And it's mighty good.