Contentment

Contentment.  To be satisfied and happy.  

Am I content?   I'm content with certain aspects of my life.  As a mother, I'm content.  As a wife, I'm content.  As a daughter in law, I'm content.  As a friend, I'm content.  But there are areas in my life I am not.  In fact, I'm so far from contentment in those areas its embarrassing.  I am thankful and GRATEFUL, but I am certainly not content.

As a perfectionist, oldest child, and relentless need for affirmation in my life, there are huge areas which elude all sense of satisfaction and happiness for long periods of time.  To name a few: appearance, career, and home. 

Most women (and men) are never satisfied with their appearance.  Oftentimes due to health or time constraints it is out of our control.   Career, is dictated by work experience and degrees of education.  Home, seriously.  What woman do you know keeps a perfect house? WITHOUT A MAID OR INTERIOR DESIGN BUSINESS. (Sorry Joanna Gaines and Martha Stewart...ya'll don't count as human here) News flash: they don't.

I struggle so much.  And my discontentment bleeds into those other areas of my life that are amazing and give me purpose and joy.  I don't want my bad attitude to poison the lovely things in my life.  When I'm home with the 2 most amazing people in my life,  I want to enjoy and encourage them.  Not complain and mope. 

Like I mentioned before, I am thankful- grateful for my overall health, job, and home.  Heck, we have a home! We have a roof that doesn't leak.  The AC and heat work wonderfully. There are no plumbing issues, mold, or infestations.  (I'm really jinxing myself here aren't I?)  I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to complain about.  Yet all I can think of is ..."Man, I really need to empty and organize the spare room.  The shower needs scrubbing- BAD! The bedroom needs to be painted, the living room paint needs to be patched up- and the carpet is fraying where it meets the kitchen linoleum."  The list goes on.  I feel like a failure because I make significantly less than my husband even though we graduated from the same university with the same exact degree.  Maybe if I made more I could contribute to the house and actually make it more of a home.   As it is, I work 40 hours a week and some days making dinner is my one huge accomplishment.

Being a working mom means that your house, unless you have help, will not look like your Pinterest page.  Having a clean house, usually means that your kid wasn't there for the whole day.  

I love a clean house.  I actually enjoy cleaning.  Especially my kitchen.  Its a high effort, high reward kinda deal.  One of my favorite things to do is organize!  It kills me that my closet looks like Hurricane Ali ran through and then gusted through another 6 times.

There are so many excuses I could make.  I will eventually scrub my shower.  (read: this weekend) My closet will get organized. Or at least the clothes will be washed and folded into neat stacks.  The bathroom mirror will finally get that much needed wipe down.

I know I'm doing this out of order, but I really can't go too much into my discontentment at work for obvious reasons.  Some days are better than others.  I'm grateful for my job.  Quitting is not an option.  Losing it would terrify me.  And maybe that's the root of my discontentment: fear.

When we are discontent, we are living in fear.  Fear of other people's opinions.  Fear of our own personal expectations. (If you've read my other blog posts you realize how much expectations truly are your enemy!) Fear of the unknown.  Just writing this has helped me identify my fears and refocus. 

It's like seeing a huge shadow out the corner of your eye.  Terrifyingly huge and ominous, you ignore it but can't stop thinking about.  The anxiety builds up, feeding off our skewed perception.  The fear is suffocating, taking up so much room in our minds that it leaves no room for joy. I don't want to live like that anymore.

Writing helps me to turn around and look at what is making that huge, ominous shadow.   To identify it as the small thing it truly is and not the distorted image cast on the edges of my mind.  The house will be alright.  My job provides for my family.  I am not as ugly or out of shape as I think. I will no longer let fear rob me of my happiness and satisfaction in life!

What are you discontent with?  Is it something you can change?  Is it a change you fear? Identify it.  Allow yourself to cry.  Take the adrenaline from your frustration and go run, lift weights, or create something!  

I'm not a licensed anything. MY solutions may not be the ones you need.  This is simply me sharing my story, hoping that my brokenness leads to someone else's wholeness.