Everything I need

While cleaning and organizing my home I made a momentous discovery: I have everything I need. Not everything I want of course (a Wii and an IPhone are top of the list), but I actually do have everything I need. My winter boots are good, my rain coat keeps me dry, my car is running strong and my roof doesn't leak. My child has a cozy bedroom with a warm bed and plenty of toys. There's food in the pantry, a stack of books to read near my bed, and a lap top that allows me to stay creative. I have enough money in the bank right now (although lets forget for the moment that cash is a student loan), the bills are paid, and we can pay the mortgage for the next few months without worry. I have enough blue jeans and socks and two new, comfy sweaters that look good and keep me warm. There are enough forks and bowls and linens and plastic storage containers. My can opener works. My plants are healthy. I honestly can't think of one more thing that I need.

How often in our lives do we reach this point of equilibrium, when nothing is broken or worn out? It seems that I'm always fighting to keep something working, or trying to make do with what I already have. Sure, there's plenty that I want... a car made in this century would be nice, and I'm still longing to see Europe, or at least Burning Man. And I'd like another tattoo. But I don't need any of that. Not really.

And for the time being, my daughter has everything she needs at school. The new intervener is learning quickly and really seems to get what type of support Queen Teen needs. Her classroom teacher has found ways to adapt Queen Teen's curriculum so that QT is actually learning, not just doodling. Physical therapy is continuing and we got OT back. Her hearing aids are still a challenge, but we have an audiologist who is dedicated to finding the right kind of system for Queen Teen. The geneticist may not have a diagnosis, but he does have ideas to help stabilize QT's ataxia. My daughter has everything she needs right now, including counceling. The rest is up to her.

I think I'm content. It's an odd feeling. I've never felt this kind of security before and I'm not used to it. In the back of my mind are little voices saying things like, "that money in the bank will have to paid back someday, with interest." "Your car has a lot of miles on it. How long do you think it will keep going?" "You may have the mortgage now, but what about in a couple of months?" "Sure hope Queen Teen doesn't get sick."

Like I said, I'm not used to having everything I need. I grew up poor, so I'm used to wanting. My feet would hurt before my parents could afford new shoes. Today, I have over five pairs of shoes, all of them in decent shape, that fit me and feel good on my feet. My daughter has enough pairs of shoes as well. There isn't a think I need to buy today.

I'm going to sink into this contentment and try it out for a while, see if I can get used to it.