Let's Talk Dirty

"Some of the happiest people in the world, go home smelling to high heaven at the end of the day." -God (as played by Morgan Freeman), Bruce Almighty

I love this quote because it specifically reminds me of my dad. When I was a kid, my dad worked on a pig farm. And we would wait up for him to come home from work. And when he did, he smelled. Bad. Really bad. And he was dirty. But we were still excited to see him and he was excited to see us, and just as jolly as usual. If I ever smell that lingering pig farm smell again, I will instantly think of my childhood and my dad, being happy to get home to his kids, and smelling like pig crap.
Because happiness doesn't come from smelling good, or being clean. We associate success with clean cut business suits and shiny shoes and shiny cars and shiny houses and a shiny happy family, with shining smiles, straight out of Pleasantville.
But that's not real!
Office jobs, writing reports, fancy suits, expensive watches, perfect people with perfect lives, shiny cars, big houses with big t.v.s, shiny credit cards, those aren't real life.
Life is not a pristine experience, it is not soft, it is not shiny, it is not clean, it is not perfect, symmetrical, or fancy.
Real life is waking up to the human experience. It's dirty, and frantic, and confusing, it's an array of every emotion often felt at the wrong time. It's filled with imperfect people. It's filled with courage and hope, and shadows and pain, love and rage. And it hurts. It hurts a lot. But it's the most magical thing. It defies logic, it's beyond our comprehensions, it's filled to the brim with miracles and it's reaches from the pits of human weakness to the peak of human compassion. And we are everywhere in between, winding on this chaotic path with a frenzy we don't understand.
One time Loveknob and I were walking and he laughs as he points out that he walks around the mud, whereas I just stomp on through it. And I am like "Yeah! No mud is going to stop me from walking wherever I damn well please!" And it doesn't. When I look to paths I wish to take, the paths that really make my heart jump and my spirit ache for movement, they are not crystal clear. They are not void of mud or obstacles or jagged rocks or flesh eating turnips. They look scary, menacing, intimidating. But I will come out on the other end, triumphiant, my mind weary, my muscles aching, my eyes barely staying open, my feet barely taking the next step, with scratches on my skin and mud caked in my hair, and somehow, completely covered in pig crap. And I will be victorious. I will feel brighter, my smile will be stronger, my laughter uproarious, my tears will be of pure inexpressible joy. I will be the happiest me that has yet existed and I will smell to high heavens at the end of the day.

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