My kind of perfect

I woke up from a nightmare. Except this was mid-day. Feeling very relieved that I was alive and better yet, I was not slipping in some quicksand, I brushed my teeth and went down. I had to rub my eyes yet again. The sink was clean. The kitchen sparkling and two loads of laundry done, folded and put away. Here was a man who loves me I thought.

The evening slipped away as we did grocery shopping as a family, stopped at a nearby park, ran into a couple with a son the same age as our daughters and discovered a kinship that felt it was meant to be.

As I lay in bed that night ruminating on the day, I realized it was just my kind of perfect. The kind of day when perfectly normal things happen in unexpected ways. The happiness that is of the crock pot kind where the joys of the day add and simmer for a long time till it is done.

Two days later, I read this piece. It resonated with me perhaps because I am at that stage of life where I appreciate what the lady talks about. The ‘good enough’ life. My ‘good enough’ might not be yours but it is just perfect for me. If the Lean In folks find their version of perfect in shattering glass ceilings, the part timers, the stay at home-ers and work from home-ers find it in the balance between fiscal independence and pursuit of their vocation. At the end of the day isn’t it about feeling fulfilled? About the pursuit of happiness?

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