I have been desperately trying to manage my time and my piles lately. There are piles are everywhere.
My dearest friend in the world has commiserated with me.
We both seem to never be free of piles of things to which we must attend. Piles of things to mail, piles of laundry to put away, piles of laundry to wash, piles of ironing, piles of sewing, piles of mending, piles of dishes, piles of projects, seeds saved and seeds to plant, yarn to be untangled, socks to darn, books to read, books to return to the library and the friend at church.................. In the midst of it all I try and find my sanity and my purpose.
These little piles are a burden, yes, but they are who I am. They indicate a busy, happy life, full of ideas and activities.
Sure, I would like things to always be in their place and tidy.
Who wouldn't?
But shall I sacrifice my childrens' desire to make a fairy house or my need to submerse myself in beautiful poetry for a perfectly kept home? Should I trade a walk with my husband on the beach in the evening, watching my children collect shells and seaweed for organized cupboards?
This last year has been a hard one for me.
It has been one of deep introspection, which is a very hard thing to be devoted to when life asks so much of you.
I have "lost" people in my life due to misunderstandings or differences of opinion. Remarkably, I don't care to retrieve any of them.
I find myself grieveing for them as if they are gone from this earth. The removal of them from my life has, at once, been piercing and cleansing. Through experience I have discovered that freedom from people who say they love you or are a friend to you without actually knowing and understanding who you are is a freedom most of us don't even know we need.
I was raised to be polite and to always think of others before myself. I have taught my children the same principle. Somehow, along the way, this ideal became adulterated and I found myself twisted around the desires and whims of others. Having a servant personality by nature, I allowed my desire to please interfere with my own needs. As I have matured - and I cannot believe that I am still maturing at the age of 44- I have realized that being a good person and doing what is right does not always involve extreme, painful self sacrifice.
I have lost most of these people because I was too scared to defend myself and too tired to fight. I have now stopped looking back and am comfortable living with the choices I have made. Yet sadly, my life has been marked by a series of deaths of these dear ones who are still alive. This blog began as a way for me to share my farm and business ventures. It has since become a method of catharsis and as I hear from those of you who read it, I feel sure that by my sharing more personal, less "cozy" aspects of myself, you will be blessed.
I will venture , over the next few postings, to picture my life as a mother and creator of happiness. The photos I share will hopefully inspire you and help me to ---finally--- validate my life and the choices I make.
I begin with an excerpt from an e-mail to my sister- in- spirit in Michigan.
Will my children will appreciate the way I have chosen to live and bring them up?
I have opted for less money so that we could have fresh milk and eggs, so that my children can have their mother home with them and their father almost any time they need him. Do I have to wear a long cape or sweeping robes and feathers in my hair to have what has evolved into my version of an eccentric lifestyle be accepted? Some children move every 18 months to two years to follow their military mothers and fathers. I met a woman the other day who had moved 19 times since she had been married.
My children fall asleep to the sounds of rain on a (albeit leaky) tin roof and frogs peeping loudly outside. They rise to a nice mommy who is having tea and getting ready to go outside for fresh milk. They have hand made clothes to wear and good, yet relatively plain food in plenty. (lots of eggs and lettuce) They can choose to read all day or play dress up and are required to spend very little time studying.
I wish I could come to terms with who I am and what I want without feeling guilty or feeling like I have to make it up to the world
for not being as normal or comfortably well off as everyone else....
Pondering late into the night,
Maureen
My dearest friend in the world has commiserated with me.
We both seem to never be free of piles of things to which we must attend. Piles of things to mail, piles of laundry to put away, piles of laundry to wash, piles of ironing, piles of sewing, piles of mending, piles of dishes, piles of projects, seeds saved and seeds to plant, yarn to be untangled, socks to darn, books to read, books to return to the library and the friend at church.................. In the midst of it all I try and find my sanity and my purpose.
These little piles are a burden, yes, but they are who I am. They indicate a busy, happy life, full of ideas and activities.
Sure, I would like things to always be in their place and tidy.
Who wouldn't?
But shall I sacrifice my childrens' desire to make a fairy house or my need to submerse myself in beautiful poetry for a perfectly kept home? Should I trade a walk with my husband on the beach in the evening, watching my children collect shells and seaweed for organized cupboards?
This last year has been a hard one for me.
It has been one of deep introspection, which is a very hard thing to be devoted to when life asks so much of you.
I have "lost" people in my life due to misunderstandings or differences of opinion. Remarkably, I don't care to retrieve any of them.
I find myself grieveing for them as if they are gone from this earth. The removal of them from my life has, at once, been piercing and cleansing. Through experience I have discovered that freedom from people who say they love you or are a friend to you without actually knowing and understanding who you are is a freedom most of us don't even know we need.
I was raised to be polite and to always think of others before myself. I have taught my children the same principle. Somehow, along the way, this ideal became adulterated and I found myself twisted around the desires and whims of others. Having a servant personality by nature, I allowed my desire to please interfere with my own needs. As I have matured - and I cannot believe that I am still maturing at the age of 44- I have realized that being a good person and doing what is right does not always involve extreme, painful self sacrifice.
I have lost most of these people because I was too scared to defend myself and too tired to fight. I have now stopped looking back and am comfortable living with the choices I have made. Yet sadly, my life has been marked by a series of deaths of these dear ones who are still alive. This blog began as a way for me to share my farm and business ventures. It has since become a method of catharsis and as I hear from those of you who read it, I feel sure that by my sharing more personal, less "cozy" aspects of myself, you will be blessed.
I will venture , over the next few postings, to picture my life as a mother and creator of happiness. The photos I share will hopefully inspire you and help me to ---finally--- validate my life and the choices I make.
I begin with an excerpt from an e-mail to my sister- in- spirit in Michigan.
Will my children will appreciate the way I have chosen to live and bring them up?
I have opted for less money so that we could have fresh milk and eggs, so that my children can have their mother home with them and their father almost any time they need him. Do I have to wear a long cape or sweeping robes and feathers in my hair to have what has evolved into my version of an eccentric lifestyle be accepted? Some children move every 18 months to two years to follow their military mothers and fathers. I met a woman the other day who had moved 19 times since she had been married.
My children fall asleep to the sounds of rain on a (albeit leaky) tin roof and frogs peeping loudly outside. They rise to a nice mommy who is having tea and getting ready to go outside for fresh milk. They have hand made clothes to wear and good, yet relatively plain food in plenty. (lots of eggs and lettuce) They can choose to read all day or play dress up and are required to spend very little time studying.
I wish I could come to terms with who I am and what I want without feeling guilty or feeling like I have to make it up to the world
for not being as normal or comfortably well off as everyone else....
Pondering late into the night,
Maureen
1 comment:
I always enjoy reading your musings...why should you feel guilty when you are giving your children exactly what your grandmother was able (and expected) to give to her children? Unfortunately, our society has forgotten the value of a lazy summer day spent waterside, nose in a book about King Arthur, or learning biology from bounding through the woods and creeks on your land.
You are a very lucky woman, to have such visions for your children and the bounding faith to make them happen--most of us are only dreamers...I write this as I sit at my 9-5ish job, missing my three month old baby girl, who I left much too early this morning....
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