Mom is Just a Nickname

Make me strong in spirit, able to weather the challenges of life without breaking in the storm.  Make me able to bend with the winds and the rain, while knowing that I will once more stand straight when the storm passes.

Being strong in spirit does not only mean weathering storms, though.  Sometimes it means knowing when to ask for help, it means knowing when I can bend no further without someone to lean on.  Anyone who knows me may know how hard I find it to ask for help, unless I trust you very well.  Asking for help is not my strong suit.  So in asking to make me strong in spirit, I also ask for help in knowing when I need to ask for help.

Being strong in spirit means being strong enough to know when I can and should offer my help to my loved ones, to my friends.  I feel a fierce urge to protect those I care most about, but I must recognize that they too have their own storms to weather and I must wait for them to ask for help.   I have a hard time with this, since I know how long I will wait , how far I will let myself bend towards breaking, before I will grudgingly reach out for help.

Make me strong in spirit that I might weather the storms of life with grace;

Make me strong in spirit that I might reach out to others with dignity and gratefulness;

Make me strong in spirit that I might help others with respect and awareness of their needs;

Make me strong in spirit that I might live life with joy.

So many of my friends and family are welcoming babies into the world this year or next.  My sister, two cousins, and friends!  I’m happy for all of them, but sad for myself.  My babies are getting older…My oldest turns 10 in October.  TEN! I said TEN!!!!!  I’ve been a mom for ten years, while some of my peers still don’t have any children.  I’m not sure which, if either, missed out.  I mean, I do kind of wish I had had more time as an adult before having children.  But, that would have meant passing up the time I have had with my kids…and that would be a sore loss for me.

I’m trying to balance the past, the present and the future.  The things I might have done if I’d misspent my youth might have led me down a far less pleasant path.  I now sit in my home, surrounded by the family I love, and know that I made a decision that was healthy for me…even if it seemed insane at the time, and even if it led to some great heartache.  All the things I wish I had had back before meeting Topher or having kids, I can still find today: good friends, a higher education, a satisfying career.

I’m slowly learning that it’s never too late to craft the life I wish I had had.  I’m stubborn though, so it takes me time to get there.  So, as I toast the newest additions to our family and I admire the pictures of my friends’ newborns, I remember with sweet nostalgia the days when my children were that tiny, and I look forward.  I look forward to all that is yet to come.  Like those little innocent babes, I’m just starting off in a new world.

Every once in awhile, the Universe seems to reach out and smack me with a concept. I figure I’m really supposed to learn this point because it will show up every where for awhile. This week it has been the concept of “One River, Many Wells” which is also the name of a book by Matthew Fox, as you can see if you follow the link. I’ve only scratched the surface of this book, but I’ve been intrigued since I read the title. The concept is that there is one shared Truth, but many different ways to arrive at that Truth. (The book describes “Truth” as “Divine” instead. I have altered it for my purposes here.)

The idea so completely encompasses my understanding of the religious world that it struck me. Ever since I began learning about ancient cultures and their creation myths, ever since I began to learn more about the many active religions in the world, the idea that any one system had the ONE and ONLY path to Truth seemed impossible to me. There were similarities to be found in all of the ones I’ve read, and the differences were matters of cultural diversity.

So, it was not a new idea to me, Matthew Fox simply stated it far more clearly than I’d ever heard or tried to express. To think of a single flowing Truth or Divinity that we all tap into in our own unique ways…that’s powerful to me.

Then, I was reading a different book: “How to Become a Famous Writer Before You’re Dead: Your Words in Print and Your Name in Lights” by Ariel Gore. In a section called “Embrace Your Genius”, she writes,

You have a unique and delicious genius to share. You see this vibrant and vulnerable planet in your own strange way. You draw connections that make you wonder if you’ve lost your mind. Your fears are specific, and alien to me. We’re human kin, you and me and Murakami –when we dig deep enough into our own individual wells, we reach the same universal stream– but the places we’re digging from, they’re different.

It’s not enough to me that we draw from this deep and shared river of Truth, Creativity or Divinity, though. I believe that we not only receive from it, but we, each of us, feed it. Just as many tiny streams feed into the large and sprawling river, so we too have our own unique things to give to the greater Truth. It is not enough to see that there are many paths, we have to acknowledge that each individual path helps make the common Spirit stronger. The sharing of each Personal Truth only makes the Greater Wisdom all the more potent.

We’re somewhere around halfway through J’s summer break from school.  The kids are bored with each other, and I’m bored of refereeing their constant spats.  I need some inspiration for cheap and easy things to do with them at home!  Getting anywhere in town is expensive these days and I’m trying to cut back to only the most basic trips from home.  Combining trips is a lovely idea, but I can only combine so many activities in one day before I’m a worn out mess!

Our fish tank is providing some entertainment at least.  We all three spend a lot of time staring into the tank, studying it, trying to see what the animals are up to now.  Yesterday was an exciting day because we discovered two tiny snails.  We have three large mysterio snails, but these little guys are different.  They must have hitched a ride on some of the new plants we just got!  I know that snails can sometimes take over a tank, but I’ve also read that they can be good for it, so for now, we’ll leave them and let them eat the foul stuff in there.

It was even bigger excitement when we realized that we have some fry in the tank!  The only breeds of fish we have right now red wag platy (4 of them) and silver lyretail mollies (4 of them).  Both breeds are livebearers and we suspected that the two platy females were pregnant within a week of having them home.  I hope there is enough cover for the fry to survive, but if not, I guess we know there’s population control in the tank. (I know, that’s a horrible way to look at it!) We’ve thought about setting a nursery tank, but for now we don’t have the resources to do that.

I’m not sure if it’s the search for something to do or the realization that in about a month X will be starting preschool, but I’ve been weighted down with thoughts of what I’ll be doing once he’s in school.  Toph and I have always agreed that when the kids are both in school, I’d start working – at least part time.  This year is the year to turn my thoughts that way.  X will only be in school for the mornings, which doesn’t give me much time to work a job, but it would give me time to write or do school work.  So, I’m weighing up my options: either I pursue writing far more seriously or I get myself into a school program in order to get a degree.  It begs the questions of what degree I’d get and what kind of writing I want to do.  So, I have a lot on my mind these days.

For now, I guess I’ll succumb to the madness of life with my children.  I’ve had requests to play with bouncy balls in the foyer (oi! I’m ready to hide the darn things!) and we need to go to the library today.  I’ll have to get some pictures of my seedlings and some of the projects me and the kids have done lately.

Here’s hoping your summers are passing more peacefully than mine!

My bulletin board is bare. I have stripped it down to the naked, brown cork board, riddled with holes from push pins past. It hangs still on a wall in the corner of my kitchen, as if in disgrace. It has been forgotten since my desk was moved to the living room.

I have a large baggie full of things I want to use to decorate it. I’m not sure it will be enough. I suppose I will add to it as I find new words and images of interest, making it a large collage. I face the prospect of having all of my mind’s inner workings on display to anyone who enters my home. Most people pay no attention to the bulletin board, though. Either they look right over it, not even noticing it, or they purposely avoid looking so as to respect my privacy. I’m never quite sure which, unless they look and quickly dart their eyes away.

But before, the board had mostly post it notes with hasty notes scrawled. It was a working board, as I layered ideas on it for my novel. Soon, it will be full of images I find compelling. Perhaps some future visitor will also find it compelling.