Flowy pants

I want to be a flowy-pants type person. I want to be one of the people in catalogs that has soft, floaty palazzo pants and a button down shirt that fits perfectly (not so loose to be unflattering, not so tight to be uncomfortable.) And there are times in my life when I do wear my flowy pants and I do feel a little lighter and a little breezier, but more often I'm a black-dress-and-pearls girl, a black-suit-with-a-faux-flower-on-my-lapel girl. I struggle with that, sometimes, being more buttoned-up and less buttoned-down, and yet, I am who I am and maybe it's time I stopped struggling and just accepted that.

Because there's got to be a place for suited-up people just as there has to be a place for breezy-pants people. We all need each other to do different things, we all need each other to play different roles. But within each of us we are not solely one or the other, we can be both, even if one is a little (or a lot) more pronounced than the other. 

The issue, though, is not whether we classify ourselves one way or another, it's accepting that one day and one minute we may be more flighty and the next we may be yearning for structure. It changes as we get older, it changes as we involve others, it changes as we become parents or workers or caretakers or partners. It changes. We change. Whether we struggle with that change is entirely up to us. 

There are days and minutes in days when I wish I was artistic or had the ability to decorate or had the ability to take 5 random pieces of luggage and fit them into the trunk of a car. Those are not my strengths. And then I remember that someone has to get directions and someone has to pack the lunch and someone has to remember to pack for hot and cold temperatures and get all the toiletries and handle the itineraries; someone who is good at algebra and not geometry; someone who is good at logical thinking and not philosophy; someone who wears pearls more often than patchouli oil; someone just like me. 

This is the life. 

-a