Letting go

One of my favourite singers is Regina Spektor and one of her songs, called Field Below, goes “I wish I’d see a field below, I wish I’d hear a rooster crow”. My new home overlooks green fields and I hear the rooster crow every morning. We also hear goats, cows, dogs and cats in heat but that’s beside the point. Look out at the fields is what I did earlier this afternoon…while sucking the life out of a cigarette, something I only ever resort to when I feel really stressed. I’m in one of my moods today. It’s a mixture of frustration and hormones going haywire. The cigarette helped, as did the beautiful view from the terrace (I grew up in a town with no fields or traces of greenery so being able to see farmers working in their fields is my idea of heaven…ok now I sound like some sort of pervert).

What really calmed me down and put everything back in perspective, though, was playing with Munchkin. Her favourite game at the moment is Guess Who? and she always chooses the same three faces (they’re all girls with blonde hair and long eyelashes). Then we played at ironing clothes…I wasn’t pretending but she was and I almost burned a shirt while staring at her chubby little face frowning in concentration. And then it hit me…my frustration all stems from the fact that I feel trapped professionally and I cannot deny the fact all this started with Munchkin’s arrival. What I had forgotten, however, is that I was frustrated on another level before she came along. Sure, I had the demanding job, the sense of achievement that comes when one overcomes professional challenges, I could go out whenever I wanted (not that I did much) and all my money was mine (actually, most of it was my landlady’s) but ultimately I felt empty. The best thing to ever happen to me was to have her enter my life, very unpredictably may I add. She has made everything better, everything makes more sense because of her. Most of all, she has taught me what love is all about. It’s thanks to her that I opened up my heart to the wonderful man that is my husband (whom I apologise publicly to for being such a wet blanket and drama queen).

I may have ‘lost’ my previous life, but I’ve gained a whole new one which is full of love, dreams to be realised and the odd tantrum and no matter how much I complain and pity myself (despicable quality, I know), I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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