Messy

I was thinking today about the romance of things and how that romantic idea sometimes stops us from actually injoying life. Confused ok let me elaberate.

I love the romance of fishing the boat the water relecting

the sky the silence with just the ripples of water on the boat sides. the gental sway of the water rising and falling as the sun kisses your skin:  a soft breeze adds just the right amount of freshness. The struggle with the fish as he fights for his life and the fishermen or women struggle to land the massive fish.

that sanitarily lands on your plate with sauce on the side, and little Baby potaoes browned just slightly on the side.

This is a noble idea of fishing that longers in my brain the reality of fishing in my minds eye is that you get on a smelling boat with water in the bottem and the bugs swarm you as you make your way out to where you are going to fish at you swat away the hords of bug the humming of them never stops and the spead boat runs past almost knocking your som much smaller boat over. You cast out and catch nothing but manage to feed the fish as you bait flies way as you cast. So you pull it back in, as you are putting the new bait on you stab your self with the hook and start to bleed.

 As your casting you catch it on the tree behind you. You struggle to get it out of the tree limb it breaks loose hitting the shirt of the person who is with you. finally you make it into the river with bait in place.

The sun beats down on you breakign through the 5 LB of sunscrean you put on and bakes you like a cake. The bobble bobs down you wait knowing the fish will be back the bobber goes onder and you jerk up on the line snaggin what feels like a huge monster under the water. as you fight to ge tthe fish in when the water gives way and the fish shows Himself to you. He turns out to be too small to keep and he must go back in. So at the end of the day of fishing after you stop at the emergancy room for a quick tenis shotand a few quick stitches on your thumb that would not stop bleeding. from the rust hook that ripped you thumb open and a target stop for the shirt you need to replace from the same hook. you have to gut the fish just bairly big enough to keep with smell and funky stuff ripped out of said fish and put it into the freezer. As you dial for pizza because the thought of fish is making you ill at the moment. Now you might think this is an exageration but these are all actulual fishing memories for me except I think we stopped at JC Pennies not Target for the shirt in full desclosure.

This is what I mean about the romance of the thing destroying the actuall idea of the activity. HAs that ever happened to you? I face this all the time In my mind Life is like a Movie perfectly framed and plotted for every screan there is never any Bugs tring to kill you so they can brag to their Bug buddies. (Yeah that is right I implied Bugs are gangs waiting to kill you. ) there is never offencive oders or sweat in places I may get banned for mentioning. you may glisten with a little sweat on the brow but nothing more. WE may face a trail in our life experiance a huge loss but by the next 3 sceans or 2 hours that is done it will not change the essance of who you are for years.

But life is not like that Life is grit in your teeth as you fight through heart break and sturggles. Some times in life when I am most on track and doing what I know I am made for is when I feel the least sure of my self the confidant in what I am doing because the dream in my head interfears with the reality of what that actally fleshes out to be is unrecognisable. I have been bleassed in my life to have many of the things I dreamed of as a girl I have a quirky group of friends that are fun and funny yet deep and real some newer some older I planned my life with as a geeky preteen girl. I have a hot hubby with an acent from a forine land and a heart that should be on display some where the most beautiful I have ever seen: He loves me like crazy for which I have no explination. We may not have much as far as things and cars but we have what we need.

I think about the romatic notions that could make me dissatisfied with my life yeah we can not aford a lot of things trips are years apart and new things are few and far between. I do not get to see my friends daily or weekly for that matter but I do see them often. We have not been able to have children and my health has not been the best. I could micro scope in on the things that anoy me about my husband. But what would this get me? My life may not be an ideal picture on a post card or even make a good christmas letter. I did that one year sat down to writeout a chirstmas letter because we just felt so great and I had time so I did and when I went to the standered form of what people write int he letters It was the most depressing thing I have ever read. It was wierd to me how different it felt vs. how it read. So I choose life the real grit and strif hopes and crushing blows bad smells and sunburns and all. The romancic ideal or ideal just numb you to the treasure that actually awaits int he failing and struggle of real life.

I had a friend of mine described the grossness of birth with the water breaking the blood the poop and guts that come with birthing a baby, If that is how we come into the world how can we expect to live a life other than how we entered it. messy.
But we wait don't we: we wait till the Baby is all washed up with the blanket wrapped just so and the little yamica hat babies wear is on their head and sleeping 

so there is no crying in the picture. There was even a huge up roar over the artist Jill Greenberg the took candy away from children to
capture the pure sadness.

People were out raged! Not that life is always sad or hard but Those times and the hard parts make the joy so much brighter. If we sanitize the bad we will not ever feel the joy and contentment of Life. It has been my experiance that as I face things things look them in the eye brings so much more than the disapointment and beating our selves up for wrecking the image.

We are so obsesed with the romance of things sanitizing things into beautiful picture  that leave so many feeling inadiquit. Reality is relity the messy is life. You cna be Lerical and build a pretty picture and dramatise it all you want and I love me a good dramatisation, but real is real the rest is just going to rob you of life and happiness.