I’m having to wear glasses when I drive now.
Me! Missus 20/20 Vision!
Without my glasses, I’m reduced to creeping along at 20 miles an hour squinting at street signs.
After thirty-two years, the distance is one big blur.
Or has it always been a blur to me?
In reality, my outlook on life has always been a little “near-sighted.” I’m what you call a detail-oriented person; someone who struggles with perfectionism. I walk around with a magnifying glass noticing all the weeds in my yard and uneven hemlines in my makeshift curtains.
I’d love to be one of those big-picture, eternally-optimistic people. People who walk through life looking like this:
Then I could describe myself using endearing terms such as “happy-go-lucky” or “content.”
But instead, I struggle with being “pensive” and “critical,” and I almost always have “a bee in my bonnet.”
I used to call it perfectionism, but now I just call it losing-the-forest-for-the-trees-ism.
And then, once I’m lost in all the trees, I begin to notice all the squirrels….
…and I wonder if Mr. Smith should shoot them before they try to eat our duct work.
(Which they have.)
I attended a party this week in a breathtaking home and couldn’t help but notice the crown molding and rich hardwood floors.
And the tight-sealing doors.
And non-drafty bathrooms.
And lack of mice.
I really tried not to get lost in the comparisons to that of my own house of drafty bathrooms and mismatched furniture.
Above is a photo of our den. I modeled it after this amazing photo from Country Living Magazine:
So how is it that I started with army surplus goods and crisp linens and ended up with yellow chevron, white damask and green velvet? No idea.
Maybe I’m not near-sighted after all. Maybe I’m just blind. 🙂
Sometimes picking up the magnifying glass inspires me to push harder and gives me the energy to create, to accomplish, to cross another task off my list.
And then there are times when the magnifying glass swoops in front of my face unannounced and bombards me with every single imperfection in myself and my surroundings. These times inspire me to:
- eat half a bag of Doritos
- rearrange the furniture
- give up and collapse in a heap
Eventually I get over my fit and move on because I’ve exasperated Mr. Smith and because at least I have a home and furniture, be it mismatched.
Do you ever feel this way?
Like you’re balancing on the edge of inspiration and desperation? Like you are lost in the details and comparisons?
I’d like to say I have answers, but I don’t.
Actually, I take it back. Doritos really do help.
So does tying a bonnet on your cats’ head and laughing at how cute they look.
That always helps.
In the meantime, I’m gonna put my glasses back on and keep searching for the big picture and pull out my magnifying glass to examine the blessings in my life.