There are a hundred things I think about writing when I sit down in front of my screen; thousands of words that could pour forth from the voice my fingers share as they dance across the keys with their satisfying clickings.
Most the time I end up writing nothing because -- for instance -- there are too many food blogs already, and no one really wants to read a personal story before a shared recipe anyway, right? You just wanna jump right to that recipe. I know I do. I click that button and skip all the fluff to get right to why I came to the webpage in the first place.
But here are some words that I'm allowing to just flow out to see where it all goes.
It's nearing the end of the first school year my kids have ever had in public school, which means it's also nearing the end of the first year I've had as an adult to basically pursue my own passions and interests. I've never considered myself a stay-at-home parent, but I mean, I guess that's what I am.
A lot of time in this past life season has looked like me pressing through a heavy bog of grief along the way as I processed the sudden and unexpected loss of my best fur-friend ever, Mazzy. I can now say I've come through to the other side, but grief is a lingering scar that still hurts sometimes, unexpectedly.
I could write about how well my kids have thrived in school, or how they've both faced new medical diagnoses that will affect them for just a few years or the rest of their life.
I could write about how brave they are, and how proud of them I am for facing fears, anxieties, and challenges and not backing down or taking the easy way out; how they never give up.
There's been a lot of work in the past six months that I've daily done with my new mini Aussie puppy, Poppy. The dearest little shark-devil, she is highly intelligent, exceptionally food motivated, and at nine months still prefers going to the bathroom on the floor instead of outside.
Like, this dog won't tell me she has to go, and even if I do see signs and get her out, she'll stare at birds or nosh on yard salad instead of taking care of her business. My carpet is ruined and I fear my house perpetually now smells like urine.
But she's smart as a whip! (except for housebreaking, that is) We're now in her third eight-week round of training classes; this one is called beginner's competition training. We are working on heeling, marking, sitting on a box, and other fancy and impressive tricks that have been beneficial in getting her to focus and calm down.
My art and embroidery have continued improving. I try to spend a bit of time every day either sketching up ideas or beginning projects.
And speaking of projects, there are quite a few that have had their beginnings and have yet to get further than that because there are always new and exciting ideas floating around inside the creative portion of my brain that push out the practical portion.
I got a loom that I haven't had a chance to properly play around with as of yet.
There are still daffodil stems, dried from last spring, hanging above the beam between the living room and sun room; they ask me nearly every time I look at them when I'm going to make some cordage or a basket with their easily pliable-when-damp bodies.
I don't have an answer for them.
A great deal of time is spent every week curating a meal menu, shopping for ingredients, and creating dishes. Weekly grocery expenses for five to six meals cost around $150; I use the Flashfood app for buying proteins on sale and pop them into the chest freezer. I then build meals around what I have in there so I'm rarely purchasing meat or fish at full price.
But let's be honest: what I really need to do is get a job, because money? there ain't never enough of it, is there? Living paycheck to paycheck is a stressful kind of existence and, what with the cost of virtually all the things continuing to go up, the weeks keep getting thinner and more stretched out financially.
I'm tired of justifying what I do spend on groceries to feed the family. Tired of feeling guilty when I want a break from cooking to eat dinner out somewhere. Tired of feeling bad for getting a new pair of running shoes. Tired of not driving places too often so I don't use too much gas. Tired of constantly worrying about spending money when we don't live in extravagance at all.
And yet, I don't want to give up my time spent training Poppy throughout the day. Or getting her (and me) out for a long hike whenever the mood strikes. Or sitting down and sketching out an idea for a new embroidery project. Or indulging in the joys of slow-cooking a meal that has multiple stages that take an entire day to put together. Or watching the kids get on the bus every morning and being here when they get home every afternoon. Or being available for them 100% of the time when they get sick during the school day and need to come home. Or working out as soon as they get on the bus. Or being in bed around 9:30 every night to read or do crosswords until I fall asleep.
Wherever will I fit a job into these things that I so enjoy? These things that fill me with hope and wonder, that allow me to take a full, deep breath of satisfaction. What kind of work could possibly accommodate a person like myself? Life is too short to spend on someone else's grind. Hustles mean nothing if your soul is being leached away until you're a husk of your own potential.
How would I look out the window and observe the glimmer of a dust devil spinning fallen petals into a colorful vortex if I'm sitting in a windowless office? How would I create the meals I so deeply enjoy if I'm serving another's food to a table? How will I continue watching Poppy grow into the best version of her furry self if I'm stocking shelves in a pet store? How will I be present for my own kids if I'm caring for someone else's? How will I listen to my own music if all I hear during the day are the horrid tunes played in a clothing store? How will I dream up embroidery ideas and give them tangible life if my hands are busy answering phones or mopping someone's floor?
Does life forever feel like a crossroads? Is there ever a time when you feel like you're just on a path and there aren't side quests to distract you, or choices to be made?
This past year has taught me that freedom is a luxury, but it has teeth. Once you taste it, the thought of giving it up tears into the soul and leaves it in shreds. But what's the alternative to giving up that freedom and moving on to the necessity of making money? I don't see any.
The cog must eventually succumb to the movement of the wheel.
Dreams of owning a business in this economic climate are too lofty to bring down to reality. I spent time last week writing out how my business would look; what I would offer to the community. And those dreams just aren't financially feasible. You need to have money to make money, as they say, and I don't; and too many people don't have much money to spread around on small businesses these days anyway.
I'm not even sure what this whole post is about, really, or why you're even still reading it -- maybe you're not! But thanks for listening to this meandering ramble through the wilds of my mind at this particular crossroad, as summer nears and I contemplate giving up my freedom and availability for a paycheck; as I consider trading being a stay-at-home parent to rejoin the workforce, proper-like. These posts serve me as reminders of life's seasonal struggles if nothing else, plus it's always cathartic to let my mind wander and flow into words.
I'm well aware these are definitely first world problems;
like I said, freedom is a luxury.
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