This weekend I had the great pleasure of seeing a mesmerising, beautifully shot, interesting and fabulous movie. Marguerite is the retelling of a true story of the worbling socialite circa 1920. Florence Foster Jenkins lived in New York, and sang for the delight of herself and the bemusement of others. Horrible, off-key screeching that she heard as beautiful and everyone else not so much. It’s an exquisite movie and you’re so tender hearted towards her you just want to protect her from the truth.
And this got my friend and I into talking about how you imagine yourself to be and what is the ‘reality.’ This then got me into thinking how you imagine the life you want to live and how things currently stand. Maybe it’s more about authenticity and living out the ideals and dreams and plans in a world that sometimes fights against all those things and sometimes helps you along your way.
I once lived in a gorgeous house with big beautiful rooms and a stairwell papered with William Morris botanical designs. My windows looked out onto the water and I could see the train glide across the horizon. Not too many years before that it was suburbia and identical housing. And a few years before that amber waves of grain as far as the eye could see.
In each one of those ways of life, what I felt in the inside did not match the type of life I was living. In my musings today I realised that how I live now is how I imagined my life to be – it resonates with something within my character and it all feels just right.
Secretly I think this is what most of us are looking for and if you find it, it leaves you feeling like you are where you’re supposed to be at just the right time.