The End All, Be All

In life, we often search for definitives. The definitive house. The definitive job. The definitive life partner. In all likelihood this tendancy is part of the human condition, but there is always that possibility of permanence that drives us to search for it. We all have a grandparent or know someone that has lived in the same house his whole life. We occasionally encounter that lucky individual who found her life calling and has been committed to it ever since. And let's not kid ourselves--once we get married, typically we plan to stay married (with the exception of some particuarly twisted individuals with either ulterior motives or a mad masochistic streak). In general, people like to do something, and they'd like to do it only once. Personally, I'd like to brush my teeth once and be done with it.

My husband and I are in the process of buying a house. During our search over the past year, we've found some houses that really felt like home, and for the first time, I pictured myself old in a positive way, surrounded by grandchildren. These houses felt like a grandparent's house and certainly had room for a young family to grow. The house we actually settled on is different. It's modern, brightly painted, and not overly large. It reminds us of our youth and vitality. It actually needs some work, which I'm not opposed to doing--though I had been formerly, on account of wanting a plug-and-play-condition house--because it will help transform it into our own. We may grow old in it, or we may not. I'm no longer terrified of the idea of not owning the definitive house. Owning our first house should be good enough. There are many people that never get that far. Even if we got stuck with it forever, how terrible would that be? Oh gosh, we're stuck with our 3 bedroom house in a nice neighborhood, with the yellow kitchen I love so much and the cathedral ceiling. Yeah, the bedrooms are a little small, and so is the yard, but well, see aforementioned statement about some people never having the burden of such "small" luxuries.

Incidentally, I've also just gotten a raise at work--further proof of God's continual grace towards this often ungrateful, self-absorbed child of his. I complain about my job, that it's contract, that I wouldn't want to go permanent because everything is political and the skilled worker is undervalued...but is it really that horrible? Really? It's amazing how significantly an increase in pay reduces the "unbearable factor". I guess all my moral objections weren't as, well, moral as I had thought. Much of my discontent with any job I've had stems from this unreasonable desire to find the definitive job. Once I relinquish that desire, or at least resign myself to it's unlikelihood, I can work for this company for all its faults, for now, and see what I can do about them.

Many people are frustrated in their quest for permanence. Permanence itself is not bad, and is a thing to be desired, but the lack of it shouldn't discourage. Nothing except death is definite, and little more than marriage is available to the common man or woman. Everything else is bonus.