On the surface, there is nothing wrong with my life. I live in Florida where it is 80 degrees right now while people in the rest of the country are shoveling snow and trying to stay warm. I live in a house that’s about a mile and a half from the beach. It’s not a big house and it’s kind of old, but I put in a new kitchen and a new bathroom, and it works for us. I spent a few hours this morning reading on my lanai while cuddling with my little rescue dog Madelyn. Now Madelyn needs to go to have some teeth pulled tomorrow and I never realized how expensive dental care is for dogs, but if we have to do it, we can afford it. I have a job I enjoy for the most part – I don’t believe that there is anybody who likes everything about their job – and I make enough money to provide for my family. We do live somewhat frugally, but we have enough savings to fix a broken car or to splurge on a nice vacation trip. And yet, I am feeling restless and discontent.
Recently, I have noticed that I am drawn to reading books on meaning, purpose, minimalism, tiny homes, happiness, communication that heals, and letting go. I have been reminded that the true goal of life is to love better and to connect more deeply rather than to accumulate more, live in a bigger house, own more stuff, drive a newer car, or impress other people. As I explore what this means for my life, my life-style, my goals, and important decisions, I invite you along. I don’t have any answers right now, just a lot of questions. Let’s embark on a journey of discovery together.