In one of the goal coaching sessions I did with lululemon, I was asked to write a ten year vision for my life. (This is the just the first part. I may share the rest of it in a later post but it's quite revealing!)
"It is a sunny but cool afternoon. I am under a low tree on my yoga mat barefoot scribbling in a notebook while our two children and our bulldog play in the garden nearby. From inside there's the smell of spicy quinoa and the sound of rich jazz as Matt prepares a delicious Sunday lunch.
Our friends will be arriving shortly with their own kiddos and dogs to eat from our garden around a huge farm table with low slung Italian lights above our heads. The table will be covered with bottles of wine and plates to share and crayons for the kids who are doodling all over the butcher paper.
We have spent the morning at the farmers' market with the kids on bikes and skateboards. We picked up all sorts of deliciousness and peonies for every room."
Even when I read it now (I wrote it over a year ago) it lights me up. I wrote it before I was engaged to Matt. Before we had this amazing little house in Venice (was such a nervous wreck while we were looking for it convinced we wouldn't find anything. A complete psychopath.) Before we'd had the most amazing wedding. Before we'd worked really, really hard on our relationship to get this place of major respect and understanding.
So yesterday when I was sitting on my yoga mat at just about the time in the afternoon I had pictured, under a tree, with my notebook, getting kisses from my bulldog and watching my husband (still feels crazy to say!) work in the yard I thought, "I'm here." Right in the middle of that dream I'd written. Not exactly how I'd described above (thank god, not ready!) but the time before the kiddos and perhaps another bulldog. Everything else is in place - the enchanting backyard, the unbelievably rich friendships we've developed, our little home. I just wanted to stay right there on my yoga mat soaking in it all. With all of the chaos of the past year, I hadn't even realized I am already here.