Why I Write

Here is the piece I had been working on. It still needs work but I cannot look at it any longer so I will let you look at it instead! Ha!

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Why I Write

Writing...is about some of our deepest needs: our need to be visible, to be heard, our need to make sense of our lives, to wake up and grow and belong.

-Anne Lamott

Becoming a mother is one of those things that is almost impossible to prepare for, one of the few experiences in life that changes you instantly: one day you are not a mother, and the next day you are.

It happens so fast you wonder what happened, exactly, suddenly flung into new territory without a road map. While nothing can really prepare you for the labyrinth of this life transition, it does help to have tools to light the way. The tools you use are as individual as you are, the only requirement for the job being that they work. Yoga, girlfriends, books, therapy, martinis, or some combination of all of these, or more, may work for you. What I have found works for me is a writing practice.

When I say practice, I mean practice in a mystical sense, almost religiously, as a sort of devotion to myself. I also mean it in an athletic sense, for it is a type of mental athletics for me, a way in which I practice knowing my thoughts, a way of keeping up with myself as I change. I would not consider myself a writer, although I aspire to being one, but I write every day, as a tool for understanding myself. I write when I do not make sense, especially when I don't make sense. I write when I am not politically correct. I write and then I throw the writing away. I write to release myself from myself.

Writing has always been a part of my life, a way I could dependably clear my head and slow my speeding thoughts. A way I could savor life by slowing my experiences to the pace of my pen. My writing life began early, by being home taught. Diary writing was part of our cirriculum. By keeping a daily journal, my sister's and I learned about spelling, vocabulary, and grammar. It was consequently an impersonal recording, mostly of the days events and highlights; mostly of what we had for dinner.

I had always had a hard time communicating my thoughts into words. As a child, my thoughts fluttered by as feelings rather than words, a shorthand that I understood but that did not translate well into speech. As I grew, I practiced slowing down to sculpt words out of my feelings, whole paragraphs and chapters and books of feelings with no punctuation.

I practiced translating my feelings into words and soon writing became a habit and my journal more private, it's contents evolving to record my interior experiences. I still included what I had for dinner, but this time in much more lavish detail.

And then I got busy, and life whizzed past faster than I could write it. My twenties were filled with major life transitions and experiences happening in rapid succession, leaving little time for introspection.

Motherhood was the catalyst for my return to writing. I found myself laid completely bare after the birth of my daughter, a tabula rasa. My whole perception of life had changed overnight. My whole perception of myself changed overnight. Even my nervous system changed, going into a consistent state of high alert.

Becoming a mother was a very difficult transition for me. I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked how I felt: different. I wondered as I stared, who this woman was, what she thought about things, As I felt my internal compass shift its true north, I wondered who I was now, trying to fit into a new mold as scratchy and uncomfortable as an ill-fitting turtle neck. Feelings of suffocation and aloneness blurred my vision.

In order to make sense of my jumbled inner landscape, I once again turned to writing. I asked myself questions and waited for answers to come. And waited. I persistently faced the sound of my own silence, my own distance from myself.

I persisted in hopes of not only discovering my voice again, but in also discovering a new career. Writing seemed the perfect work for a stay-at-home mom. I struggled with this new concept of myself, of my life. I wondered how I looked to those looking in on me, wondered again who I was now, and where I would go. I still want to write as a career, to be published, recognized; to be heard. But I now recognize how important writing is to me on a fundamental level; that it anchors my very being. I may not fully know who I am now, or where I am going, but I do know that all along the way I am writing myself into being. And perhaps that is most the important part of the journey.

Self Discipline

You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.

Kahlil Gibran

I have been thinking about this childraising/time to yourself/something for yourself conundrum.

And thinking...and thinking.

I think that there are different times in one's life that offer unique experiences perfectly suited towards growing in various ways. Every phases of life presents both obstacles and opportunities.

For instance, when I stopped working and started a family, I decided that the new phase of my life would be a perfect time to explore my more creative side. That side I had had little time for really, between school and work and then more work. Even the writing I did get to do at the wine magazine was very constricted and uncreative due to the editorial content. I had never had a real opportunity to discover my voice, or my creativity.

I thought motherhood would present the perfect opportunity for reclaiming my more artistic side. That being creative with my children, seeing through their eyes, and experiencing their unstructured concept of time would reconnect me to my innate creativity that dwelt, I intuited, in a more playful part of myself long buried.

But I found myself instead putting my old attitudes into my new life. Trying to structure time too precisely, or letting it go entirely. Never really enjoying the moment because now I was focused on a new to-do list that never ended. The list may have changed, but my attitude had not: grimly going down a to-do list or worrying about the lack of order in my life and overcompensating. And still, fun and creativity coming last, if at all.

I thought what a perfect opportunity to finally do what I had always wanted to do: become a writer. Hopefully make that my new career. But I find myself, day after day, filling my time first with my hopelessly mundane, and certainly un-fun, "to-do" list.

So I have decided, in all of this thinking, that my wish to become a writer will never happen unless I do it, every day. As though I am already a writer, treat it as a career, as a job, and hopefully, in so doing, it will become just that: a job and a career.

In order to do that, I am going to start putting myself first, literally, in the morning. By putting writing first in my day, I will always do it. I will structure my time, but not confine myself either, blending the lessons of flexibility and fluidity that motherhood has taught me with my older, more rigid attitudes about life and work. My focus will be less on perfection and more on production. Making writing a regular part of my life, on a daily basis. A consistent, regular mental purging, if you will.

I think I will be able to relax and enjoy the rest of my life more, knowing that I am taking care of myself as well as my home and family. If you lose yourself, you have nothing to give. It is that elusive balance of maintaining oneself in the face of life's demands, a paradox no one is immune to and a balance everyone requires. Here is to each of us finding our paths and, most importantly, walking them.

Homework

This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but knew what to do with it.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

We are back from our latest trip to visit parents and Practical Sis to help my nephew celebrate the big two years old birthday, and we are home now, for good, it seems, at least for a couple of months.

You see, with Patrick's work (construction diver), there is not usually a reliable schedule of where he will be or when, and there is no predicting the future, so we take advantage of time when we have it and live very in the moment. It is really nice, if you look at it the right way, but very difficult on any type of schedule. That is the big reason I stopped working when we had Babou, with Patrick's work being as it is, we thought it would be best if our children had at least one parent consistently there for them. And that would be me. I thought that I would thrive in creating my own schedule and really enjoy the freedom of our lifestyle.

In reality, it is much harder than I imagined. I talk to my sisters, all busy and stressed and find myself envious. That they get to go somewhere and either get paid for their work or see that they are accruing credits towards their goals. Measureable rewards for time spent. My life, I am finding, is quite unmeasureable right now. My goals are difficult to see happening and I have to really focus on creating a structure for myself within which to try to move forward. Homework is not as easy as I thought.

This sort of whiney post is a...to be continued...

A Mother of a Job

Housework, if you do it right, will kill you.
-Erma Bombeck

I know the gripe is not new. I know that I am one of many. But tonight I feel like the only one. Tonight I am feeling tired and small and sorry for myself. I am so tired of doing the same things every day.

Tonight my husband was complaining about how nonstop his work has been lately. And it's true, he has been working fairly steadily for almost a month now. He works on a job by job basis that comes in stints of intense work followed by a week or two, or sometimes longer, without having to work at all.

I sympathized with him and told him that it would be over soon, that he only to wait until Monday, and he could enjoy a good week or two of relaxation. And then I started feeling sorry for myself. It's just that I cannot look forward to that in my life,


My work haunts me day in and day out. I am going on about 730 days straight now. This is how it goes with few exceptions: Wake up at the bleeding crack of dawn, nurse baby, change baby, try to exercise, feed self and baby healthy breakfast, shower and dress self, dress baby, clean house, take baby and dog to park to run and frolic, run errands, make and eat healthy lunch for self and baby, change diaper again, nurse baby, put baby down for nap, do all the jobs you can't do with you baby as fast as you can, baby up, run more errands, plan dinner make dinner do dishes, clean up kitchen, baby bath and teeth brushing (fun!), baby reading time, nurse the baby, baby goes to sleep, Mama already asleep.

And repeat!

The thing about motherhood is its constancy. There are no days off, and, if you're a stay-at-home mom like me, you never leave your work. I suppose this would be the same for anyone who works from home. The work never seems to end, you don't see any ending point and consequently don't feel the satisfaction of completion very often. Your work is always a work in progress.

I know this can be the same at work. When I worked in publishing, it felt the work would never end. But I did get the satisfaction of completion as there were deadlines, and there was always the satisfaction that I could go home and leave the work behind.

When I was younger and I felt truly overwhelmed by the demands I was under, I would call a personal time out. I would not go to class or work. I would call in sick to all of it. I would stay in bed most of the day, re-inspiring myself with writing and reading, or I would go on a day trip adventure. Even I knew this frivolousness could not last long and as my responsibilities grew heavier, those "mental health" days disappeared as well.

But I think those days of getting away, of taking the time to renew yourself are so important. You have to remember what you like to do and do it. It is hard when you have responsibilities woven into your day, however. But I would like to try to weave more fun into my daily round. To have more fun now, not later when I have forgotten what fun is.

So, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I am going to try to come up with a tangible way to give myself some "mental health" time. I simply can no longer deal with monotony and need to salvage what is left of the free spirit inside of me. I need to nurse Her back to health and vitality. Even if that means nursing a martini while creating a F.I.L.(http://fromthefrontlines.blogspot.com, December 17 post)! A woman has to do what a woman has to do!

Welcome to my blog!

I am creating this blog as an outlet to discuss things that are important to me and that concern me on a daily basis. I love being a stay-at-home-mom and have never felt so fulfilled by any other job EVER BUT I have also never felt so alone in my domestic bubble. I am hoping that this will engender conversations with others who feel as I do, hopefully we can stimulate, inspire, and help one another live life more simply and easily and with more joie de vivre!

In my former life I was an aspiring food and wine writer and worked for a wine publication. I was very career oriented, loved to travel and have been known to live very freely. I am a true lover of life and am now trying to adjust to my new role and enjoy all the opportunities and adventures that it provides while not feeling limited by the confines of motherhood. But I still find myself feeling stifled and disqualifiying my new position when asked what I “do.” “I am a stay-at-home mom,” I say, averting my eyes and trying not to let the “just” that wants to come out before the “a stay-at-home mom” come out.

For it is not a “just” position. It is a very important one but one also fraught with challenges and struggles that just you can’t imagine. At least I couldn’t. But I’m always up for a challenge and am really excited about sharing my struggles and successes and hope to create a forum to share experiences, problems, and solutions! This blog is about that elusive balance we all wish to attain, about living in an environmental and ethical way while maintaining a budget (eating locally, organic, and buying American is not always cheap or convenient), maintaining a family while maintaining a sense of self, eating healthfully and sensibly while being a hedonist at heart, trying to maintain a social life, and feeling sexy for your husband after reading “Goodnight Moon” and putting your baby to bed all while not becoming a Stepford Wife!

Here we go!