It was nearly midnight.  Well, 45 till. And I realized, I hadn’t written my 250 words a day yet.

Not in my journal.  Not in a post. Not at all.  

We had family in town and so I stayed up so late the night before and then woke up super early the next morning.  And it was a full day. Of family, movies, food, video games, an interesting work tour at my guy’s employment facility, etc.

And before I realized it, I was watching my guy and his brother playing video games at 11pm.  And the thought crossed my mind… I hadn’t written my 250 words yet today – at all.

And so there I sat.  I finished up my drink, put my drinking vessel in the dishwasher, and said goodnight.  I called my puppy to my side in my bed, and grabbed the laptop to write-up a few words before dozing off.  

It’s good to have family in town.  Especially the family you get along with.  It’s fun. It’s celebratory. It’s lack of sleep and laziness and things to do.  It’s games to play (since we have 3 kids under 13 staying with us). And it’s a form of community.

This family, although they live in MO, they are close to us.  The closest family my guy has, anyway.  And I really enjoy them.  They love well, they love deeply, they are present and they are kind.  This family. This group of people who live and breathe and have their being together, and have entered my life through my guy.

I am so grateful for what we all have.  That night, as it calmed down, and a few knocked off and fell to sleep – I was thinking upon the events of the day.  One in particular was watching my guy with his niece, 2 nephews, and brother all gathered around the table eating a makeshift meal of corn dogs with ketchup and ranch dipping sauce.  I watched as they all took their corny sticks to their mouth, and my heart snapshotted that moment in my mind. A memento forever searing into my consciousness as I witnessed the blood-bonded partaking of sustenance.  It was a wildly simple moment, and yet, a moment of deep, inner peace, calm and joy as the thought crossed my mind, “this is life, Ash. Take it in. Breathe it. This is the moment.”

No, it wasn’t flashy fanfare that captured my heart.  No, it wasn’t brilliance or stunning beauty. No, it wasn’t depth and tragedy.  It was just existence. In its purest, everyday form. It was being here. Seeing this, and understanding that while this isn’t some pivotal moment in my life, it was my life.  That’s sobering and… well, cool.  

It was taking this moment in and realizing it was orchestrated by all these different facets of choices, and life, and items.  The table my guy and I chose to purchase from this gay couple in downtown Dallas. The choice of plates I agonized over years ago, on which they’re dipping their corn dogs into the sauce that lay upon them. The choice I made to be with this man back in 2016.  The choice of my guy’s parents to have their second child. The choice of my guy to embrace the relationship he has with his older brother. The choice for me to know and love my (maybe almost someday) sister-in-law and niece and nephews that already call me aunt.  It’s this moment concocted of all these tiny and huge events that have choreographed this one moment that I am witness to. And it moved me. It moved me to realize that this was my life. Right here, right now.

I am often caught up in a captive mentality that fixates on the next big thing.  My next job, my next move in my career, the next life changing moment with my guy, the next “aha.”  And yet? This moment was none of those. This moment was the organization of the mundane, another different, yet plain day.  And I realized something… I loved it.

My life is shaping up and letting the horrible desire I have had for years of impact, fame and largeness, go.  It’s not caring. It’s losing my fucks to the things I once thought made or broke you. Instead? It’s observing the now.  It’s here.  It’s realizing, ever so fucking slowly, that wow, these moments of watching my family standing together in our diningroom over an ill-equipped meal? Well, that’s blowing my mind with the calmest peace and joy.  That right there is the element I couldn’t see before and yet have been missing all along. That right there is so beyond more than enough, it’s its own story in and of itself.  

It’s the simple.  It’s the rest. It’s the letting go of the striving and just enjoying existence.  It’s the acceptance to a new lens and vision on life that blows your mind in the process.  

I don’t know that I fully am there yet – but my god. I am really enjoying the dying of the dream and embracing the ever-present.  Because now that it’s dying? I may, for the first time ever, have a glimpse in what it’s like to finally see.

Cheers.