It was a very simple moment in time, which I recognized as it was happening: it was one of those moments in my life that defined me.
I had returned to school in my late thirties. I sat in a class called “Women’s Studies”. They probably don’t have those anymore, but they did then.
The instructor stood at the front of the class and said, “Your assignment is to take out a piece of paper, and in one sentence, state what it is you want in life.”
I reflected, only for a few seconds. I wrote:
“To love, to be loved, to be happy.”
The instructor walked around the room and silently read each student’s statement. When she got to my desk, she read what I’d written, arched a single eyebrow at me, and said, “Well, now, that’s quite a tall order.”
I looked directly back at her and said, “Is it?”
It hasn’t changed. That statement still defines me. No, I don’t always love, and no, I’m not always loved, and I’m most certainly not always happy. But there’s always a glimmer of all three, sitting there waiting to be recognized by me.
©Janet Mitchell, May 2012