Nothing like a full night out, with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one counting on you

to make you stop. and. think. I am me!

What a revelation!  What an insight!  What a miraculous feeling!  The radio could be heard.  Ted talks blew my mind.  The grocery store was fluorescent and silent with only the beat of my steps following me. The library, oh the library.  So peaceful it was majestic.  So many books to run my fingers over.  Sections I forgot existed suddenly appeared, calling out to me to be checked out immediately.

After an hour or more, I lost track of time all together on my date with my brain, I ventured on to the solo dinner;  stack of books in hand, knitting all tucked into my purse, and an appetite to boot.  Turns out, I had the restaurant to myself.  Now that was some good service.  A corner table overlooking every empty chair was in a way serendipitous.  It was fateful.  I ordered a complete meal, enjoying every crunch and sip.  It was blissful.

The ride home was spent listening to this particular ted talk, and it blew my mind.  It inspired me.  I remembered that I once had many goals bigger than just getting through a day.  Although that is a lofty goal.  I remembered that I indeed have a college degree and am highly qualified and encouraged to use it.  But, listening to this intelligent man speak reminded me all the same that it is not that little piece of paper you own or the title you hold that defines you, it is the wisdom you possess and the choices you make.

It is the power to do the right thing.

Being a mama is blinding.  It gives you tunnel vision like nothing I have felt before.  Your past is quickly a thing of another life time and your future is unknown.  Your passion and skills for things outside the home can be diminished, even if you hold a full-time job (I am told), because your days are so filled to the brim with simple tasks that you have not the time to even contemplate anything else.

But it is out there, and it is still in here.  And for that, I am glad.