Red Delicious Smiles

Ellie asked me tonight what I chose for my job and then she asked Greg. While we both ended up being sales people, despite having English Lit degrees, our answers spoke volumes about what we were really doing. I told her that I was in advertising sales and she asked what that meant. I explained that I sold air, and then mumbled, “mostly hot.” Greg’s answer was no better. He said that he sold networking equipment. When she wanted some elaboration, he said, “I sell a vision,” looked at me and completed, “mostly flawed.” Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could actually do what we loved to do in life, whatever that might be? If it’s golfing, why not golf? If it’s cooking, why not cook? Why do we go through the motions of day to day life without ever really living? Did I think by watching just one more television show in a day my life would be more fulfilled? If I like to write, I should be writing, even if I do “suck” and even if I can’t pay people to read one word I’ve written. If you like to sing then you should sing, just not on national television. When your child looks into your eyes, looking for answers, looking for advice, wisdom, guidance, you realize that explaining that the choices you have made in life have brought you to a place of contentment, of quiet bliss, it wasn’t by sitting in front of a t.v. hour after hour and you realize quickly that you need to change your game plan. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you could respond, “Mommy is a writer. She does what she loves to do and so will you one day.” We don’t get to that place without taking risks. My family is sitting in front of me, eating their Friday night bowl of sour cream and onion chips while having a campout on the family room floor with blow-up mattresses and sleeping bags. With the exception of the baby, they are all grinning with a red delicious apple peel wedged in between their top and bottom gums. I would love to join in the silliness but there will be plenty of time for that, for t.v. watching, for golfing, cooking and singing, once I get some writing done.

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