March 15, 2019
Last night when I took the dogs outside before bed, I could hear what sounded like a happily babbling brook. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sound, with the exception the sound didn't belong beside my house! Between the temperature jump of 10 degrees and the deluge of rain that fell in the evening, by midnight the heavy layer of snow became a mixture of slush and mud. Our house is on a gently sloping hill. There's a drain out back our home to keep the water away from our house, but between the slush and ice that remained we had a temporary elevation situation. Slopes sloping the wrong way. Water was running down beside the house and shed, down the driveway. I knew I couldn't leave it that way or with the current rate of flow, I might wake up in the morning to a watery basement. The melt water in 24 hours was incredible.
There was no way I could make the ice disappear. I am not a superhero with laser beams. I got to work with a spade and started chipping away to form a channel towards the drain built into the hillside. Thankfully, my father lives close and was able to come help. In the end, it took two small channels to redirect the water to where it needed to go. The stream stopped flowing and our home is nice and dry. Water takes the easiest course.
Water is necessary to life. It's beautiful and life giving. The properties of water, ice and snow make life possible. At the same time, like anything else too much of it is destructive.
The temporary stream flowing over the concrete beside my home had the potential to become a river and cause a big fat mess in my home.
There are things I couldn't change to prevent a flood -like changing the slope of the hill behind our home, or removing all the snow from the forest. Obvious, right? I had to chip away at the ice and make a small change. Small change in this case was enough to redirect flow and solve the problem.
Sort of like the way life goes? Unless you have a money tree or know the alchemist's secret of turning lead to gold, there are many things a person learns to deal with. Some things you can't stop, but you can make small changes that have huge impacts over time. Life flows like water.
In the wake of international women's day, all the memes on social media declaring, "I am woman, hear me roar!" have left me feeling less. Not that I believe I am, but when a person's value stems from achievements and careers, recognition from society at large, I am pretty small in the grand scheme of things. My life's work thus far hasn't gained me any accolades. I did very well in school, I am capable, but have never got to chase after a career. We women take many paths. Sometimes it's not a golden road, but rather a humble, unknown trail.
I have fought back the invisible deluge, the flow of life that disrupts and like a boat on water, got pulled along in the current. I ended up a stay at mom. As I think how to express my view point, I hear my sister saying how much she'd love to be home and have the time with her son. I dream of intellectual flights of fancy, bettering my education and working into a dream job, but then I come back down to earth with the realities of my life.
The grass is greener on the other side of the fence. Neither walk is easy. Super mom is a grand illusion. Whether at home or at work, we moms make sacrifices. We wish to have that time with our children, we want to have healthy homes and we have our own personal dreams and aspirations. No matter how you tackle it, it's a feat of juggling.
The rush of images and comments about moms that do it all on social media has a way of goading me to feel insufficient. Career + children + wealth and all the reverence and respect that come with it. I should be striving for more and not let anything get in my way. Go gang busters, take no prisoners, knock every obstacle out of my way. Maybe a few of us get that kind of life when everything goes right, but I believe it's more of a glossy, airbrushed mirage of images. I have tried to do more and I ended up tired.
Instead, I choose to walk beside my children. I have my shoulda/coulda/wouldas that get me down in the moment, but I am a survivor and over the rush of the water, you might hear my roar.
In my case, getting anywhere might take a little more time. Ok, maybe a lot more time. My son's arthritis means our family's pace is often a little slower. His health struggles in his early years give me an appreciation for the simple things. (And I mean the really simple things.) And as any mom knows a few years in, as frustrating as some things are in the moment, kids grow up way too fast. I am glad I was there in those tender moments. You can't buy them back.
I would be lying if I told you I don't hold desires of building a career, but I am where I am and this slow current of my present demands I focus on other things. A person can only divide themselves so many times before feeling worn thin. I admit, I can't do it all. I can't hold onto time, but I can hug my kids. Our house may be messy, (creatively messy, I'll go with that), but I am doing my best to do life with my family. Maybe eventually, I get to have that full on writing career I dream of. For now, I am chipping away at it.
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