Chasing Serenity

Maybe it's simply because Seinfeld re-runs come on more often than the local news, but when I hear the word serenity I can picture George Costanza's father lifting his hands toward the sky and shouting out "Serenity now!" Or maybe it's because I can relate to the feeling.

Serenity and I don't get along. I'll light my candles, pop in my Greatest Country Hits CD (hey, I'm not going to say anything about your Enya CD so just leave my musical taste out of this!), lay back in my perfectly serene theme bedroom (blue and white, chosen especially for its serenity-inducing qualities) and enjoy the moment. For ten seconds.

In the eleventh second my husband will hear the bellow of "I'm bored!" and just roll his eyes at me. He seems to be able to do serene. Not me.

My whole life has been a mass of discontent. I'm always striving for the next step. In high school I couldn't wait for college, in college I couldn't wait for the real world. I started substitute teaching right out of college and couldn't wait until I had my real classroom, then got my own classroom and couldn't wait to do anything else.

Actually, while I was still teaching I put a plea out to the Internet, begging for a nice, well-off fellow who was in need of a wife. I promised I would cook and even occasionally clean, as long as I didn't have to work. That sounded like the ultimate bit of serenity to me.

Oddly enough, one of my online pals replied as a joke and promised he would marry me. Three years later we walked down the aisle and serenity was mine.

Or so I thought.

You guessed it. I was bored. We were living in Sweden and I couldn't find a job due to my lack of Swedish skills. I did live up to my promise of being the almost perfect housewife. I was so bored that I even learned to do magic--namely baking with fresh yeast. I couldn't wait to get back to work.

Now I'm back to substitute teaching and can't wait to go back to college. Funny how the world runs around in circles.

I'm old enough to know that your serenity may not be the same as my serenity. I'm not every going to find contentment in a yoga studio or on a massage table. Serenity comes to me at the least expected times. When I'm frantically typing up an article that was due yesterday my heart starts pounding, my brain careens around the bends of my mind at 100 miles per hour and I know I'm in the right place. I'm serene. I may appear to be a giant stress ball on the surface, but internally I know I'm doing what I need to do to make myself happy. I'm working on my long term goals. I'm allowing my mind to rest from all the minutiae of my life that runs through my brain in a constant nagging monologue--Do we have milk? Did I remember to call the maintenance man? When can I get to the mall? Have I talked to my grandma lately?--and totally focus on a subject that I may or may not know anything about.

I hope you've found the key to your serenity, whether it be a hot soak in the tub, an afternoon pulling weeds in the backyard, or an evening out with friends. Give yourself time to do whatever it is that allows you to meet with your inner self and drive away that inner monologue for even five minutes.