Which way do I lean?

crooked fence

“The days are long, but the years are short.” ~ Gretchen Rubin

“The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.” ~ James Taylor

With Spider Boy’s first year of preschool coming to a close next week, I’ve been looking back over this past calendar year a lot lately, my first year as a “stay at home mom.” This year has been a lot of things. Intense. Emotional. Chaotic. Playful. Stressful. Fun. Messy. Diverse. Routine. Challenging. Exhausting. Beneficial. And ultimately, Priceless. My boys will turn 2 and 4 this summer. No longer babies and yet still so very young. Every time one of them climbs up in my lap, or reaches up to hold my hand, or snuggles down in bed with me, I feel such deep gratitude for this time with them. They are growing so fast, physically and mentally and emotionally, and each day is a new adventure with them, a new opportunity for me to see them for who they are, to create a safe space for them to explore, to expand my perspective as I see things through their eyes, to learn from them as much as I am teaching them.

It is not easy. I am “on” 24/7, even in my sleep. My buttons get pushed pretty much constantly. I have been punched, head-butted, kicked, slapped, and elbowed, not always accidentally. I have changed more diapers than I could possibly count. The constant never-ending drone of meal planning, grocery shopping, cooking, dishes, and laundry is often overwhelming. There is no such thing as “just running in” anywhere. I am almost never alone.

I benefit greatly from having gone back to work after the birth of both of my boys. I know what it is like to come home after your child has already gone to sleep. I know the grief of having all too many of your child’s “firsts” happen with other people. I know that weekends are there just so you can catch up on laundry and grocery shopping and other chores. But I have also experienced the simple pleasures of “water cooler” conversations and lunches out with co-workers. And I know how good it feels to do work that you truly feel good at, and to even receive external validation for the good work that you do. Having had both experiences really helps me to appreciate the pros and cons of both choices, if indeed it is truly a binary choice. There are aspects of my work life that I miss (the people, more than anything else), but I’ve lived through it and know how miserable I was trying to balance raising a family with working outside the home, especially after the birth of my second son. On a good day, I felt like I was mediocre at everything I did; on a bad day, I felt like I was failing miserably, not even treading water, drowning in the overwhelm.

Like many women I know, I received news of Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In with mixed feelings. While I really appreciated that she wanted to address the issue of women not rising into leadership roles in government and large businesses, I felt she really did those of us who have thoughtfully and consciously made different decisions a disservice. Long before I became a mother, I really struggled with the idea that I needed to give up so much of my time and energy in order to build someone else’s pyramid, as Daniel Quinn would phrase it. My life has always been multi-faceted; I’ve joked about being a “jack of all trades, master of none,” but truly, I just have a wide variety of skills and interests, and I don’t think there is a “job” that exists that could encapsulate enough of them for me to feel fulfilled. I’ve always needed my time outside of the workplace to round things out, to take classes and be involved in my spiritual community and write and be in nature and much much more. When I left my for-pay job, yes, it was so that I could spend time with my children, but it was also so I could consciously create the well-rounded life that I wanted to live, and be the best example for my children I could be of someone who lives life fully.

One of the things that I feel most thrilled about with this “new” life that I am creating is that there is no longer a clear delineation between what is “work” and what isn’t. My life is my work. Whether I am repotting the organic tomatoes that I grew from seed, tucking my toddler in for his nap, stirring the batter for a batch of zucchini bread, creating a flyer for an upcoming workshop that I’m helping to facilitate, preparing for a board meeting at my son’s preschool, or sitting down to grab a few minutes for quiet meditation, it is all my work. I have never felt more fulfilled.

This is what I feel Sheryl Sandberg and so many others have missed. It seems to me that having a conversation about gender in the workplace is “so last millennium.” Whether you are a man or a woman, whether you’re an empty-nester or new parent or opting not to have children, shouldn’t the encouragement be to live life more fully? To find what it is that you’re passionate about and do that? And if it doesn’t fit inside someone else’s box, to create your own box? I would love to see these influential people talking about how to spend less time at the office and more time exploring this amazing planet we live on, beginning with your own backyard. This isn’t about commitment or ambition or even work-life balance. This is about recognizing that it is all your life, and it is worth making sure that it is one that is being truly LIVED. So which way do I lean? I am leaning in . . . towards life! Namaste.

It’s All My Fault!

track shift detail

“Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.”
~ Hermann Hesse

The last couple of months have been tough ones at our house, for a variety of reasons. I have been in the process of coming off of a long-term medication, with unfortunate and adverse effects; I was responsible for creating the catalog for a recent fundraising auction, which took the bulk of my attention for many weeks; the pollen counts have been through the roof and the whole family has been coughing, sniffly, sneezy, and headachy; my husband has had to work some nights and weekends; and my boys have been their usual incredibly sensitive selves, where even slight challenges or changes get magnified by that lens of sensitivity. Often, when the boys start to “act out,” I know it’s a sign that I am uncentered and need to take steps to ground and recharge, so this past week I was working hard to do my part to restore order from the chaos . . . with mixed results, due at least in part to how out of whack everything had gotten.

By Saturday, the delicate balance in our family looked more like an off-balance washing machine, so it wasn’t necessarily surprising when a straw broke my proverbial camel’s back and I snapped. In a fit of frustration, I started saying, “Fine, it’s all my fault! I get it!” I was frustrated with myself more than anything, but I had been running on empty far too long, and all of my pent up anger and frustration and exhaustion started leaking out. Thankfully the grouchiness didn’t last–with help from my mum and my husband, we were able to turn the energy around in that statement. If it truly was all my fault, then I could also be “blamed” for the gorgeous weather, the abundance at the farmer’s market, the shade from the trees, and the scent of orange blossoms in the air. Writing about it now I can feel the shift inside again, the healing laughter that it created and my sense that I could just let go of “responsibility” alongside “blame.”

Letting go is truly empowering. Yes, of course, it is probably the highest form of empowerment to recognize that by shifting myself  (my thoughts, my energy, etc.) I can shift the world around me, however that knowledge can also be crazymaking when things aren’t going as well as you expect/hope/want. As a parent, I need reminding from time to time to let go, to not hold on so tight. There’s a happy balance in there where you find your sea legs, staying present and aware of what’s happening so you can shift where you need to, while holding on to any expectations you have of the outcome gently, letting go of the worry and replacing it with, say, curiosity about what will happen next.

As a write this, it’s another absolutely beautiful day that I’m happy to take credit for, but I’m also happy to not be responsible for it. I am happy to leave the care of my children in the hands of others for a few hours while I reboot and recharge and dream of what curiosity will bring. No matter how bad things get, no matter how awful and guilty and grouchy I feel, there is always more good than not. There is always more good than not. Namaste.