I've been thinking about what's really important in life. Is it a career? Is it a family? Is it the ability to just go to work, toil away for a few hours, and then let life begin once I exit the doors? Is it the bread baked or the laundry folded? Is it the early hours of the day when I sit and write? The date nights? The music that is still left to be written?
I just feel like a lot of us are searching for what we were meant to do. Our callings. Our passions. How many of us actually live them? What would it take to get there?
I just don't want to waste time.
I've also found that I don't live a perfect life. I can't portray that I have a perfect house, baked loaves of bread this afternoon, looked great while doing all of that, managed to work on all of the creative projects I have piling up in our sewing room, and blogged about all of it later that day.
Life is messy. I can't seem to sit down and blog everyday because, honestly, I don't have all of the perfect things to say, all of the DIYs completed, and all of the creative to do lists crossed off.
I'm just being honest. Of course, I desire to live creatively, to bake those loaves of bread, and to live the life I was meant to live. But, most often than not, I've spent the day in my pajama pants, worked through a couple loads of landry, ate leftovers from two days ago, and prepared for the long work week ahead in the cubicle life. Nothing too glamorous.
I'm just searching for what is the most important in life. One day at a time. It's not supposed to be perfect.