serenity now.

June 05, 2008 candacemorris 3 Comments

Last night, as the energy behind julie's wedding began, joelio and his bride settled into their bed for a good night's rest.

As they hummed & hoed about the nothings of their day, she spooned up to the best man she knows (yes, plume ) and cooed, “I want to get away with you.”

He sleepily whispered, “Where would you go?”

She must confess, she had been day-dreaming about a vacation with him for some time. (This happens frequently when she has soon-to-be honeymooners around her). They had been musing about going camping alone together (never been done), but couldn’t yet manage to locate a free weekend in their schedule.

But she was in no mood to just sit around and soak up sun. No sarongs, no beach chairs, no frou-frou cocktails. Nor did she want grand, adrenaline-seeking adventures; no zip-lines or mountain climbing for this gal.

Instead, her soul craves Europe. This time last year, she was on her way to Paris and Italy for two weeks, and her inner-soul-ticking clock caught a desperate case of déjà vu.

They would stay in Nice, France for the entire time, but then take the train to and from various other Provincial towns. They would breeze by the Mediterranean in a smart car, eat bread and cheese for lunch, drink wine like water, and take in one of the only cultures on the planet (that she has visited) that understand soul as a means of daily living.

The bitch about vacations? MONEY.

Oh the precious cost of serenity.

I was thinking last night, in a groggy haze after my bi-monthly massage how freaking spoiled I am for one, but for two, how other women should insist on this kind of treatment for themselves. But the women I know WOULD do this if they could only afford it. It seems in this culture of ours that only those with “disposable income” can really afford to take care of themselves in the way we are told. The poor must survive their stress and raise their children without any help or hope for personal serenity, and the rich are walking around in their mansions with all the privileges in the world – serenity being the most costly. (this may or may not be based in reality).

And yet, neither lifestyle can guarantee serenity.

Of course, of course…IDEALLY serenity should not be something bound to cash. It must be something we demand outside of material gain.

Things like gazing at clouds, husbands rubbing feet, cooking at home, cheaply drinkable bottles of wine, making beautiful cards for the kids in your life, doodling in your sketchbook, perusing through your nana’s type-written letters, writing your words – perhaps these are things than can also contribute to serenity.

But man, a fabulous lunch, gorgeous handbag, expensive chocolates, ridiculous shoes, and a deep-tissue massage is the SHIT.

~crm

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3 comments:

UmberDove said...

I swear to you, this is the conundrum of my existence.

And the reason we should all move to Sweden. I'm pretty sure they've got it worked out over there, where we could be fabulous artists and drink wine in our historic brick studios while passionately debating Man Ray's motives AND then leave in the dawning hours for mud wraps and hot stone treatments.

Yep, Sweden.

sveden, yah? okay. done. sold. lez go!

The greatest and most frustrating thing about being married and not being anywhere near family is that ALL vacation time is spent getting to and from a visit with people in places you have already known for years and years.

RW and I yen for a good getaway as well, only we'd like to spend time starving and hiking and gasping for oxygen in the Andes.

I loved this post of yours. Truly.