Quick post tonight. Not much juice left in the tank after a long night trying to get Ellie to sleep.
She’s going through this thing. Probably doesn’t help that she’s missing Uncle Jon who just left after a four-day visit. But it’s not like misbehaving or anything. She’s just got a certain number of things to do every day, words to say, people to talk about, ideas to put out there. And if she doesn’t get to them before 9:30 pm, well, she’s just not going to be able to go to sleep until she’s told every stuffed animal what’s on her little mind.
“It’s a window, brown bear.”
“It’s juice, Baa-Baa.”
“It’s a pacie, Pooping Bear.”
Oh, you don’t know Pooping Bear yet. Pooping Bear, euphemistically called PB in mixed company, is a little fuzzy dude available on Stupid.com who wears a diaper and sings a little ditty about pooping. Sheri didn’t think it would be a meaningful purchase, but the Pooping Bear proved her so wrong. He croons his soothing tune and Ellie’s a happy monkey. Head on over to stupid.com if you’re looking for that hard-to-find Christmas gift for the short, little person in your life.
So, anyway, all of this is leading up to a somewhat random point that is the revolutionary anecdote I want to share tonight. I really want to believe it with all my heart and live it as a guiding force in my life. You will never be rich enough to afford the Levenger 60-fountain pen box set. You’ll never be talented enough to need to write 4 books a year. You’ll never be important enough to require a contract worth more than 4 mid-list authors make in a year. Those are not only unnecessary for your happiness, they’re the opposite of revolution. They’re distractions, padding, props, monuments to your own growing insignificance. I sincerely believe that to the extent you seek those things, you’re negotiating your own irrelevance and ultimate extinction.
There’s only one heart with one room for one master and if you think it’s not true, you’re not quite hearing yet. Honestly, when you can listen to a short, little person tell Pooping Bear to go night-night, you just know there’s no need for anything else. That’s the feeling I’m searching for in books and in life.
That’s the real stuff.