I'm finding myself with a bit of a split persona these days. Sometimes I'm giddily happy with the choices I've made and the life I'm living, while other times I'm sick with doubt and mournful of opportunities lost.
Do I smell the stank of a mid-life crisis wafting my way? Is this kind of reflection and dissonance going to lead me straight to the plastic surgeon/BMW dealership/Tahiti?
All the things I am and all the things I am not are playing air hockey in my head and heart. Back and forth, whoosh. crack. goal.
These years have been tough. These mothering years. Mothering mothering Smothering. Across from where I sit are two gallery quality images of the most gorgeous children you will ever meet. Deep eyes. Electric smiles. These images in my house are like a monument to the work I do each day. I don't hang the bullshit on the wall. The stubborn battles over shoes and waffles that threaten to strip me of my last shreds of sanity and patience on the daily. I keep that noise backstage as best I can.
What if someone else fought those battles? What if I were off designing plus-size swimwear, creating neotenous ceramic figurines coveted by mid-western housewives, raising grass-fed beef and selling it over the internet? Whatever it was, you know it would be rad. Different. Special. Right? Otherwise, what would be the point of these fantasies of all the things that could be, but are not? I'm not going to get myself in a spiral of self-doubt over your average work alternative, because the only possible alternative to the life I live is one that reeks with excellence, no? This is the shit that is crazy making. To on some fundamental level believe that I am better than what I live.
The accumulations of a life. A degree that is concomitantly obscure and timely, a marriage that has both deep roots and shaky limbs, two children that are my face in the world. Dan once told me that the reason they shine so brightly is because they are me. They are all the things I am not AND all the things I am.
When the dust settles, I'll have to see what is left and go from there.
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3 comments:
I think every road is tough in its own ways (of course I think this in between daydreaming about being the next j.k. rowling with minimal effort). It's tough to properly respond to such well stated deep thoughts in a comment box and wish we live closer so we can give it a proper wine or tonic-soaked examination.
You wrote that at 7:09 am ?
Impressive . Feel Your Feet rocks !
I think you need some ads on here , like maybe for grass fed beef .
Anyway , when you walk , always put your attention in the bottom of the unweighted foot and pretty soon you will know who you are .
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