Content.

Yesterday was a good day.

After a productive day at work, I picked up Malcolm from school, and we went over to Wildwood Metropark for a walk. It was wonderful - cool enough to not get overheated, but warm enough to enjoy the outdoors. We walked and talked, and enjoyed all the dogs running around. A good day.

At one point during our walk, I let out a little sigh (a good one). It dawned on me: after a long time of battling depression, doubting myself and trying to find my place in life...I am content.

I hesitate to admit this, as part of me is afraid that saying so will somehow bring back that little black rain cloud that has been following me everywhere. Like throwing out a challenge to G-d or the devil, whichever one feels the need to take it on. I know that dark times will come again, but I am hopeful that I am now in a better place to handle them. After all...it's easy to claim contentment during the good times, right?

But then I think back to how I've felt about the same situations over the years...and how my murky perspective would cloud my view of my life. Indeed, there are improvements to my life: we finally have our heads above water financially, our home has been improved greatly, and I have a fulfilling job with lots of flexibility, working with people I love. Good things are the same: I have a wonderful husband and son, and great family and friends. However, a few years ago I would have focused on the negative: I'm still 35 pounds overweight, I'm suffering consistent pain from both my bum knee and my sciatica, I still haven't recovered from my "mystery illness" from a few years ago, I have some broken relationships that are hurtful, and while it is a fulfilling job, working full time is not my ultimate desire and tires me out. These negatives would have easily eclipsed the positives, and I would have continued along in my misery, insisting that my life is oh so much worse than anyone else's. Oh Poor Me.

But I feel content. Even on this, a rainy gray day that would normally instantly plunge me into depression...I feel content. I've figured out (almost) how to leave work at work and enjoy my time with my family. Don and I are laughing together again. I've learned to find that balance between taking time for myself and dropping everything for a nerf-gun battle with Malcolm. Rather than feel impatient and frustrated that we are not at our ultimate destination in life, I'm learning to enjoy every bit of the journey. Even though I still feel like there are bits of me to unravel and discover, and I'm still learning to listen to G-d's voice, I'm okay with being unfinished. For once in my life...I'm okay with being unfinished.

I feel content.