My darling, type-A niece is applying to graduate schools. She has been toiling over those pesky statements and essays they require. As any good aunt who once dreamed of being a great writer, I offered my services. So, she would email me what she had wrote, I'd edit it a bit, send it back, she would send me her thoughts, I'd send her mine, she'd rewrite it, I'd edit it, I'd send it back, she would call and tell me what she was thinking, we'd talk through rush hour traffic, she'd go back to write again, send it to me, I'd edit it a little more....well, you get the picture.
We went through a lot of words. I'd listen carefully to what she was saying, pepper it with a little bit of what I figured she was thinking and then I'd page through my mental thesurasaus to find the word that "felt" like what she was saying. It's one of my quirks.......I get hung up on words. I have to feel the feeling of the word or else I can't get comfy with what's being said. Maybe I drove her a little crazy, maybe not. But, she made me feel like I was the only person on this earth who could have helped her so perfectly. How sweet is that?
During one of my emotive word searches, I was seeking a word that said "it's okay, I can live with it but it's not what rocks my world..." It's a sentiment that I heard in my niece's voice many times as we discussed the many career choices she could pursue. After a few tries, the word "content" (as in "it's okay, I can live with it but it's not what rocks my world") came to mind. It fit perfectly.
Before I knew it, that simple word..."content"..... infiltrated my being. I kept thinking about it. And, wondering about being content. Wondering if being content is a good thing. Maybe it's a good thing for some things but substandard for other things. And, I couldn't help but wonder at what point contentment turns into true happiness. For instance--right now, I am content with my weight loss so far. I would like to be thinner but, hey, this is okay. I don't feel like I'm the incredibly expanding woman. I don't feel abnormally overweight. I don't feel my stomach hitting my thighs. My face doesn't look quite as bloated. I have more wardrobe choices. My feet don't hurt as bad when I wear heels. My stomach does not unbalance me. I can stand up to zip up my jeans instead of laying on the bed. I feel okay. Is that being content? But, will my "contentment" barametor continue to rise as time goes on or will I get to the point where I am happy with my weightloss? And, then, when I'm happy, will my efforts suddenly cease? Or, will I want for more? Should I ever be completely happy with my weight loss? Will the prospect of happiness with myself make me lazy and unmotivated? And, if I truly am happy......at what point will happiness turn into euphoria? What will I need to elevate my happiness to euphoria? What is the point where contentment crosses the line into happiness and happiness crosses the line into euphoria? And, will I know when it happens? Or, will I be happy to be content? Or, will I be content to be happy? And, what about euphoria? Is it really a Size 6?