Eventually

Do you make a list every day? I make about three a day. One is for groceries. One is for the day’s responsibilities. One is for the future.
You might think I would get depressed after a year or two goes by and the same darn item remains un-crossed off on my future list, but I’m content with the idea of “eventually”. I like to do what I say I will do. Even if the only person I’ve said it to is me. When I finally DO the future list item, I can’t bring myself to be disgusted that it has taken a long time. I’m proud of eventually. Eventually is a whole lot better than not at all.
Ryan Edward and I went to an estate auction last weekend. We love antiques. We prefer modern décor, but we love the stories and the lessons behind antiques. I saw a lot of life in those items. The people who owned them had accomplished things. They were from a generation of hard workers. They discovered what mattered to them and surrounded themselves with those things. They probably worked to do it. I saw pretty little old hats. I saw antique toys. I saw beloved collections. I saw this anitique typewriter. I saw a sketching of a half naked man and I joked to Ryan Edward that it was the one item I HAD to have.

As I looked at the belongings of these people, there wasn’t a hustle bustle feeling. The rat race had slowed considerably. There was a quiet, Sunday afternoon feeling. A walk in the park. A thoughtful passage from a book. An intimate dinner by candlelight. The study of an old coin under a microscope. An eventually kind of feeling. A forgiving kind of feeling.
Motivation is necessary and so is peace.

I recently painted my living room. I’ve been planning on doing it for a very long time and then wouldn’t you know it, my living room’s "eventually" finally came around. I think it’s a pretty good illustration of both motivation and peace.

The picture of Jesus, priceless to us, was a Christmas gift from my Mom and Dad the year Dad had his heart attack. The candlesticks are real silver, a sentimenal purchase made by Ryan Edward to remind us of the lessons in Les Miserables. This wall is my brain child. Not a lot of meaning other than I dreamed it up in my head and made it happen. The sunburst coming from the mirror was painted onto the wall by hand and adds another dimension and bit of drama that we are really happy with! I painted the vases on the sides as well.