I wrote this last night, a couple hours after the girls went to sleep and I couldn’t find anything worthwhile on TV.
I don’t miss all that empty space I used to have that I filled with lazy work. But now that the space is so full of pre-bedtime ice cream runs, perfecting a manageable four person, no leftover spaghetti and meatball recipe, and a new influx dueling early-morning leaping wake up calls, I just don’t have the space to write like I used to.
Maybe it’s because there is such a clarity about my present life. I know exactly what it is I am to be about. Be a good dad and husband, make dinner more than ordering delivery, and maintain the watering schedule of the houseplants.
Maybe it’s because I’m satisfied with the work I’ve done, and I don’t feel beholden to produce something else as a kind of proof of worth and quality. And maybe it’s because I’m just happy and today was a good day.
It’s good to have a simpler life that gets filled up with all the chaotic good than having a complicated and ambitiously driven one that always feels empty.
Mary fell asleep before she could eat her banana ice cream, and now I have the work ahead of me to just not eat it. Haven got a chocolate shake, and I’m not terribly tempted by it. Lisa got a sprite, so I’m good there.
I’m a happy poppa…
Sincere Simple Sacred 