Thursday, August 11, 2011

Just one thought

I met with Amazing Therapist today. And after all I've been through and the depression I've coped with, here is the lesson I took away:

'I am so glad to be crying because something wonderful has happened instead of the opposite."

I won't go into all of it. I had a change in meds. My parent's owned up to (some) of their shit. I had an overwhelming community response to my needs AND I applied for a couple of jobs that mostly wouldn't suck.

But the biggest thing for me was realizing that definitions of success are SO relative.

I was at the Middleton Famrers' Market yesterday and having the time of my life. It was hot but not too hot, I was chilling and chatting with my neighbors, buying fresh produce, life is good. A guy I knew from my past life wandered in, clearly just from work with his khakis and button-down-collar blue shirt. I'd run into him a bunch at the office and, don't get me wrong, he seemed a REALLY nice guy. But he did everything he could to avoid hitting the Alfalfa Winery Tent. As if it would embarrass him - or embarrass me.

I am not ashamed of what I am doing. I LOVE what I am doing. The Adelman's turned the farm into a vineyard because they didn't want the acreage to be a "storage" farm for animals. They wanted it to be productive. To be a FARM.

And it turned into a vineyard. And now MA has agreed to acknowledge that locally produced wines are part of agricultural enterprise in the state. And I help that, by representing the wines at local venues.

I don't want it to be my only job nor my career. But I am very happy and proud of being a part of this enterprise.

So to see someone from my "corporate life" afraid to acknowledge my "new life" is, well, telling.

I am happy now. I love what I'm doing and the people I'm doing it for. And while I know I will soon have to return to "corporate life." the life I'm living now is neither demeaning or depressing to me.

I spend three days a week talking about wines and local vineyards. Two of those I get to hang out with organic farmers, crafters, bakers and yummy-makers.

That's nothing to be ashamed of in my world. People feel free to walk barefoot or talk about compost piles or harvesting early tomatoes durng a downpour.

What I -- we -- love isn't clean. In fact, it's dirty. But it's good, clean dirt. And nothing - NOTHING - to be ashamed of.