Of Inner Peace… and Joy

Thirty-two years ago today, I stood before a justice of the peace in my hometown with a man I had known for six years, the man I was sure I would love forever. It didn’t work out that way, but it lasted for twenty-two years. Neither of us was a bad person, but when things got tough, it became apparent we were unsuitably yoked.

Ten years ago yesterday, I was at a Holiday Inn in San Francisco with a dear friend from childhood. We hadn’t seen each other for a long time, but we got together to begin celebrating our fiftieth birthdays. It was a weekend filled with reminiscences and dreams and sharing… and a lovely Mass at St. Patrick’s Church. (I cut her out of the image here, but she was grinning as huge as I was.) I’m glad to say I weigh less now and have better hair… and have a different pair of red shoes.

My friend, ever the mystic, had insisted we write a letter to each other… and one to ourselves… that last morning together. Recently, I ran across the one I wrote to myself:

What I Want

I want inner peace. Getting there, day by day. I want to keep the joy of the person I am today–less judgmental of others, more accepting. I want to celebrate myself, to better know the acceptance of myself while balancing that with the need to improve. I want to be kinder to me. What else? Love with a man when it’s right; continued fulfillment in work; loving, marvelous friends; a dog or two; and joy.

I smiled as I read it. The right time for the right man has yet to come. I could have had a dog or two the past two years, but the timing wasn’t right for that either. Everything else I wanted then, I have–in abundance. I’ll be checking in with my friend to see what was on her list. Somehow, I’m betting she feels equally blessed ten years on. Maybe the secret was that we were blessed all along.