Satisfaction

I've written about roles, married life, kids, and a few other things that I like to call "my rants." Then as I was doing the dishes at 7am, because I have already pretty much lived a full day in two short hours (Baby up changed and fed. Twins up and fed. Play with children, clean up said play things with children. Get one kid to the bathroom to shit. Wipe the shit. Argue with child why he SHOULD wash his hands even though he did not wipe his own bum. Unload dishwasher, load dishwasher, do hand wash. Make breakfast and clean up breakfast. Start grocery list. Jump on FB. Start packing list for the days outings.) I started thinking...Even with doing all of that in two hours I wonder...am I being reflective or am I complaining? It is a fine line. There are  those that would most certainly label me/this blog as a complainer. I don't want to be. I want to be happy and satisfied, but I can't help but wonder if a person ever truly can be....satisfied? The more conversations I have with friends about life I start to really wonder about the whole idea of satisfaction. Let's face it life is difficult no matter which way you cut it! All our 'roles' demand a lot from us, people constantly disappoint, we are shocked by actions of those close to us, we crave connection and acceptance but are not always able to find it, we want to succeed and fail. I am not saying that this always happens or that life does not have it's happy times...but again I wonder about satisfaction.

My partner on here wrote about a simpler life, and at first I read it with sweat nostalgia. Now I read it with a craving to go back there...to the way things used to be...maybe even to being a kid again with not so many worries and concerns. This makes me think of my recent train trip. When riding the train I felt renewed by this simpler way of travel. You had to come in contact with people instead of hiding out in your box of a vehicle. You could look out the window and see the land instead of only seeing the tail lights of the cars in front of you.

Now for my disclaimer: I DO NOT consider myself to be a writer. I have NO aspirations of being a great writer. I do enjoy writing as a way to express my thoughts and feelings. For the most part it helps me process...much like a journal. BUT on occasion I do jot down a little something. On the train I did just that. I NEVER share these things with anyone, because like I said I am not a writer (or good at spelling and grammar!). Today though I feel compelled to do so. 

RAILS
People. 
Faces. 
All different. 
All interesting. 
Passing. 
Some rushing. 
Some old. 
Some quietly observing. That's me-- looking and watching. 
Trying to discover self. 
Self in humanity, where do I fit in?

Movement. 
A jerk or a hop. 
A push and a bump. 
Wobble on your legs. 
Sit and feel the motion of the rails. 
This is the way we travel.

Expansive fields. 
Tractor dust blowing in the wind. 
And the sun beats down. 
The fields produce. 
Life. 
This is real. 
The dirt, the plants, the sun and the rails.

I suppose that there are times that I feel like living the simple life would be easier...more satisfying. Who really knows. The grass is greener. Today though I choose to be satisfied with my life.

Signed the rambling, ranting, complaining...trying to be satisfied

Annie