For someone like myself, who is a hopeless perfectionist, I am often bound to the flawless scenarios in my head. Moments and wishes and hopes that all play out like a movie with a happy ending. Of course, if you are any sort of adult in today's world, you realize that more times than not, the perfect scenario you have in your head ends up going the complete opposite direction. I live in a constant state of longing for more from my happy moments simply because they did not live up to what I had envisioned. This leads to let down and disappointments in even the happiest of moments.
When I first heard that Romantic Homes wanted to do a spread on circa1910, I was elated. Beside myself with joy. I immediately began to dream up the magical way I would first see my company in a national magazine: I would visit my favorite grocery store (Publix, of course) with my fiance in hand. We would stroll down the magazine aisle while recording for all of social media to see. I would be ecstatic to see my bus on the front cover (dream on, little girl) and open it up to be swept away with a mess of emotion. Matt and I would hug and dance in the aisle and I would show a passerby the photos and they would recognize the bus and congratulate us.
Sometimes I am very selfish in the sense that I expect more and more from situations and never seem to be happy with what I have.
This scenario did not play out, in any sort of light, and I was severely disappointed...at first. The magazine was supposed to hit stands on August 8th and four days beforehand, I was receiving messages from people saying they had already picked up their copy. I accidentally saw the outside of the magazine a week before and the bus was not on the front cover (no one had told me it would be- again, I was just being selfish and wanting more.) There was an emergency with Matt's job and he was pulled out of town right before what I thought would be the most exciting day of our lives. I didn't want to spend the day alone, and I still wanted that fairytale moment in a grocery store, so I planned to visit my parents in my hometown and celebrate with them. We were going to take a trip to the store the day of the release: Tuesday. Two days before I was supposed to leave, my little rescue pup went into heat (right after I made her spay appointment). Then a day later, the very day I was supposed to leave, another of my dogs got sick in the house and left me presents for when I got home from the studio. It was a mess on top of a mess and I wondered why nothing in my life ever seemed to go how I had envisioned, then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was striving for perfection instead of living in the moment. Why hadn't I realized this sooner? I do this with literally everything in my life, and it ends up making me miserable in the long run.
So how did my magical moment of seeing our hard work in a national magazine play out, you ask? On the way home from dinner on Sunday night, with the very RHM issue in my lap that I refused to open, we did a U-turn into the Bi-Lo parking lot and walked inside holding hands. We went straight to the aisle, found the only issue left, sat on the floor and read it. No video cameras, no tears, no frills. Just Matt and myself rejoicing in the quiet moment. I wanted to yell at the whole store and hold it up above my head and cry and dance but I decided to live in the moment instead, to breathe it all in. We sat there quietly and smiled at each other after a few minutes. This not-so-perfect plan magically turned into one of my all-time favorite memories. This moment, this very moment, is what owning a small business with your best friend looks like in the most raw, real, and purest form. Sure there could be champagne and the whole world could have witnessed our moment through social media, but in the day and age where everything is posted online, I'm glad to have had this moment all to ourselves. I realized a tad bit more that just because something doesn't live up to my ridiculously high expectations, doesn't mean it's not entirely great in all its own right. If I spend every waking minute planning out how I want my life to go, I am going to be severely disappointed. I have to learn to love the imperfections and realize that those very blemishes are what truly make life great.
Have you heard of the times when art inspectors and authenticators find partial fingerprints either hidden inside a famous artist's work or on the back of it? The fingerprint was purely unintentional- what would be a flaw in the mind of the artist I'm sure, but in today's time, those little imperfections are what make the artwork even more valuable. They sky-rocket in price and in value, simply from a flaw.
Another example: When we first bought the bus and were trying to drive it home, the brand new brakes we spent 2 days putting on, caught on fire. Then it got stuck in a red Georgia clay ditch, in the middle of nowhere, right after it rained...2 days after Christmas. No tow-truck companies would answer their phones and we had to wait for a vehicle to finally pass to get anyone to help us. Then I dropped my sunglasses in the toilet of a Burger King...after I had used it. Those days were stressful but those moments of pure comic are what make them so great to think about. We still laugh at our misfortune. Thank God for our flawed plans working alongside His perfect will.
So as I spend today, August 8th, alone, I am grateful. I am promising myself to find joy in every moment from here on out, whether it goes my way or not. I choose to recognize the fingerprints. Happy Tuesday :)