Need and struggle are what excite and inspire us.
I've been thinking a lot lately. About so many things. Big things and small things. Questions mostly.
And one question that popped into my head yesterday was this: Is struggle more interesting than success?
And I think the answer is yes. For me, at least. Sometimes, I read books and blogs about perfect people and perfect moments. Look how gorgeous my baby is! I just lost forty pounds! My husband is soooo romantic! And these are good things, of course, happy things, but they also feel, well, a bit fantastical, a bit unreal. And I don't doubt that these words are true (unless they are embedded in a work of fiction, of course) but I find myself wanting more, craving complexity.
Does that make sense?
Conversely there are times when I happen upon a blog or a book where there is a lively struggle. I am having a hard time with things. I know I should feel happy, but I don't. I love my children but they make me frustrated. Existence feels stormy right now. And when I read these things, these kind of things, I feel something stir inside. I feel a tug, a connection, dots connecting. I feel as if reality, in all its tangles, is being honored and revered. I feel intrigued.
And so. It occurred to me why I struggle (yes, that word) with how to approach this blog. Now I will be the first to admit that many of my posts are of the former breed, happy odes to my beautiful kids and snapshots of my good life. I love these musings and they are indeed real. But it is my posts about stumbling and struggling and wondering and wandering that grip me most as I write them. It is these posts that I feel most strongly about because I know they will resonate with someone in a quiet corner of this big earth, someone who feels something similar, currents of that universal challenge that is being a human being in this world.
And so. I do my best to balance. To honor the successes along with the struggles because really my life feels like a tapestry with sturdy threads of both. But sometimes I wonder if I should spend more time pondering the struggles stitched through my days - and yours - not because that's all I face, not at all, but because that's simply more interesting. More rich. More real.
What do you think? Are you more intrigued by stories of success or stories of struggle? Or do the best stories contain fibers of both - success in the midst of struggle, struggle that comes with success? What do you think?