What it means to be content.

One of the things I have really been working towards in the last few years is being content. Content with what I have accomplished, content with what I have, content with who I am, etc. Somewhere along the line I got it in my head that I needed to have more, do more, be more...and it was starting to eat at my soul.

I can say that I have successfully kicked the need for more stuff. Things just matter less to me now - which I believe is a great thing. I spend significantly less time thinking about what I "am too poor to own" and anything we purchase these days is carefully thought out and definitely a need. Or at the very least a 'want' that will get real use and not just sit on a shelf somewhere taking up space in our home.

I have still, however, been having to battle the 'accomplishment' monster. Have I done enough? What am I doing next? Is it what I want or is it what I think others want me to do? Will it make me happy? Hard questions, indeed.

Having a very special little boy has really helped me a lot towards answers. I find I need very little but to snuggle with my baby to make me happy. I have what we need to survive and thrive from day to day. I also have a yardstick to measure whether or not something I am doing is really important to me: "Is it more important that spending time with my little boy?" It's not the only question I need to be asking myself (since, "Do I need to do it to support us?" is kind of important too). But it is a significant question that will allow me to measure what is important to me.

...What brought this to the blog? I read a really moving blog post the other day that made me think about what it means to be content. The author, Emily, has been trying to tame the "stuff monster" too, and seems to be close to succeeding. But the post spoke to me, and made me realize how much closer I am to just plain being content with my life.

Who wouldn't be, with this guy to hold onto every day?