I got a place! And now I don’t know what to do with these quite hours in the morning, before anyone wakes up. Lately I have been stressing about where I would be going, combing through every craigslist house share ad with a fine tooth comb. I guess blogging is something I can do, sitting among the chaos of someone in the midst of packing to move.
I want to get this move over with asap, to get things back to normal. It will be better. My mother has been moving to her own place. I love her dearly but most of what comes out of her mouth are complaints, and that can really drag a girl down, especially when she is trying to raise a happy healthy little girl. The last 3 years, living with my mom has been trying. Sharing a home with her as I embark on my mothering journey has made huge, crazy, complex shifts in out relationship and my own psyche. But it has been a learning experience, which probably has improved my ability to mother and my ability to live my life. There was so much baggage I didn’t even know was there that I was able to process and toss out. There were times when I had to be strong and clear and go up against my mom in order to be at ease with my own mothering. She is too bossy to comfortably co-exists with my parenting style. She was an amazing woman to grow up with, I learned soooo many wonderful and useful things to just grow in her presence. She encouraged me to be an original... but I can’t say that she was a good mother. Just a tad too self-centered to be a good mother, or supportive ally, or anything. That is okay. She had it really hard. She needs to live by herself…and now she does. And now Ramona has somewhere to go for overnights if need be.
Becoming a parent released me from being Mama’s little girl. I am the youngest, by five years. The only Mama/daughter she has.
So now I get to open a new chapter on life, away from the overbearing self-centeredness and unique strength of my mother. My mother is the Dragon Lady. Straight up.
I am moving to a space with less personal/private space, but a lot of shared space. We rent a room , a little bigger than 12x11. We wanted the master, but settled. The rent is cheaper anyway, which will help me get that part of my life back in order; cheaper rent means that a month in Mexico is probably definitely on the horizon.
The person I share with has her two kids half time, so Ramona will get to know what it is like to live with kids! My new roommate is laid back, kind and my age. She is a photographer by trade, a kindred spirit in the world of resisting the 9-5 rat race. I am excited the water is beginning to flow again in my life. Stagnation makes for all sort of yucky things, like mosquito larvae.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Please check the correct box...standardizing our lives
Yesterday I was talking to someone I know about schools. It was funny cause I felt all out of practice. My life situations and fears of the unknown were renting so much space in my head that I haven’t been contemplating my philosophies of life. The friend had started to send her toddler to a school a Montessori) that is one of the few schools I might send my child (if she wanted to go). She thought it was good, but was very concerned that they don’t test. She started talking about another mother who couldn’t get her child into some private school because when the school tested the child she had not done well. Also, she was concerned that you would never know if your child was learning what it needed to learn. It had been a long time since I had discussed testing with someone who was pro-testing and it sort of threw me off because a non-testing school is a plus in my book.
So, do you mind if I step up here on this soap box? I mean, I don’t think testing to find out how much you have retained about a subject you are learning about is anything to worry about, though I would hope that the child has been empowered to take the test or not. However, testing to see how much a child knows about a subject that adults have pushed on the child based on the child’s age is nonsensical to me. Sure kids need to know how to read and write (or do they?), but does it really matter if they are 16 or 21 when they have finished the doldrums of high school curriculum, or if they are 4 or 6 when they learn the ABCs? When there are so many things to know and learn, and when any one of us will only know a fraction of one percent of everything there is to know, is it really necessary to pit kids and adults against each other while learning the so-called “basics” at as early an age as possible? Hasn’t anyone noticed that the average middle-class suburban kid hot-boxed through school and then straight into college usually (I know exceptions) have very little common sense and very little sense of self these days? So many college students are NOT there because they want to be. Those students learn very little in college.
The testing conversation started to make me feel pulled back into that logic of competitive child rearing. The logic that says if kids aren’t learning algebra in 8th grade we should start teaching them algebra in 7th grade (at the same time brain scientists, not to mention teachers, say that most 7th graders are not developmentally ready to understand algebraic equations in 6th grade). The logic that assumes that the government knows what our kids are going to have to know in 15 or 30 years, even though the world is changing faster than we can keep up, and that they know at the precise age a child must learn each concept. The logic of competitive child-rearing dictates what every child needs to know according to how many years that the child has existed on this planet and assumes that all children, no matter what culture they are from, needs to know the same thing as every other child on the planet of similar age. We preach diversity and then push conformity. The status quo of educating doesn’t respect or honor the child’s interests or curiosity. It would rather waste large swathes of time teaching kids what they can’t or don’t want to learn instead of providing the tools that a child needs, in the here and now, in be successful in what he or she is driven to learn and do. Concerned adults tell the child what to learn under the pretense that we are preparing the child to live in a world that no one can actually predict. Believe me, it isn’t gonna look much like this one.
Unfortunately in this culture of competition, children often end up being ego extensions of their parents. As experts create developmental boxes while simultaneously presenting us with “studies” showing that children’s success and intelligence is a mixture or genes and environment, everything that the child does becomes a reflection of the parents; their genes and their ability to parent. A “bad” child, or one that doesn’t fit in, is an embarrassment to the family it comes from. Any time there is a psychopathic murderer, the press runs straight to the parents.
Children who don’t fit into the developmental boxes are pathologized. If your child develops well behind “schedule,” you receive sympathy and pity from other parents and interventions from “experts”, if your child develops well ahead of “schedule” you receive suspicion and hostility from other parents and intervention from “experts.” If you don’t pay attention to your child’s development you are ignorant and you are the one in need of intervention (parenting classes). When are children going to be respected and honored as complete human beings, today, with their own interests and dreams and talents and inner lives. They are not future human beings.
What is important for “power” is that we, the people, are competitive in the world of the Global Thieves and that we perpetuate the status quo that is currently running our world full speed into a brick wall while concentrating power into power and poverty into poverty…
My dream is that my child grows up in a world where she can be happy and can be herself, not one where over half of the population systematically takes drugs so that they can function in this warped reality we call normalcy.
We can do so much better for our children. I humbly step down. (To worry some more about things like where I am going to live next week.)
So, do you mind if I step up here on this soap box? I mean, I don’t think testing to find out how much you have retained about a subject you are learning about is anything to worry about, though I would hope that the child has been empowered to take the test or not. However, testing to see how much a child knows about a subject that adults have pushed on the child based on the child’s age is nonsensical to me. Sure kids need to know how to read and write (or do they?), but does it really matter if they are 16 or 21 when they have finished the doldrums of high school curriculum, or if they are 4 or 6 when they learn the ABCs? When there are so many things to know and learn, and when any one of us will only know a fraction of one percent of everything there is to know, is it really necessary to pit kids and adults against each other while learning the so-called “basics” at as early an age as possible? Hasn’t anyone noticed that the average middle-class suburban kid hot-boxed through school and then straight into college usually (I know exceptions) have very little common sense and very little sense of self these days? So many college students are NOT there because they want to be. Those students learn very little in college.
The testing conversation started to make me feel pulled back into that logic of competitive child rearing. The logic that says if kids aren’t learning algebra in 8th grade we should start teaching them algebra in 7th grade (at the same time brain scientists, not to mention teachers, say that most 7th graders are not developmentally ready to understand algebraic equations in 6th grade). The logic that assumes that the government knows what our kids are going to have to know in 15 or 30 years, even though the world is changing faster than we can keep up, and that they know at the precise age a child must learn each concept. The logic of competitive child-rearing dictates what every child needs to know according to how many years that the child has existed on this planet and assumes that all children, no matter what culture they are from, needs to know the same thing as every other child on the planet of similar age. We preach diversity and then push conformity. The status quo of educating doesn’t respect or honor the child’s interests or curiosity. It would rather waste large swathes of time teaching kids what they can’t or don’t want to learn instead of providing the tools that a child needs, in the here and now, in be successful in what he or she is driven to learn and do. Concerned adults tell the child what to learn under the pretense that we are preparing the child to live in a world that no one can actually predict. Believe me, it isn’t gonna look much like this one.
Unfortunately in this culture of competition, children often end up being ego extensions of their parents. As experts create developmental boxes while simultaneously presenting us with “studies” showing that children’s success and intelligence is a mixture or genes and environment, everything that the child does becomes a reflection of the parents; their genes and their ability to parent. A “bad” child, or one that doesn’t fit in, is an embarrassment to the family it comes from. Any time there is a psychopathic murderer, the press runs straight to the parents.
Children who don’t fit into the developmental boxes are pathologized. If your child develops well behind “schedule,” you receive sympathy and pity from other parents and interventions from “experts”, if your child develops well ahead of “schedule” you receive suspicion and hostility from other parents and intervention from “experts.” If you don’t pay attention to your child’s development you are ignorant and you are the one in need of intervention (parenting classes). When are children going to be respected and honored as complete human beings, today, with their own interests and dreams and talents and inner lives. They are not future human beings.
What is important for “power” is that we, the people, are competitive in the world of the Global Thieves and that we perpetuate the status quo that is currently running our world full speed into a brick wall while concentrating power into power and poverty into poverty…
My dream is that my child grows up in a world where she can be happy and can be herself, not one where over half of the population systematically takes drugs so that they can function in this warped reality we call normalcy.
We can do so much better for our children. I humbly step down. (To worry some more about things like where I am going to live next week.)
Monday, January 24, 2011
From this day forward
I feel like I have been using this blog as a place to confess and unload. Testing my ability to be honest and how much honestly I am comfortable with. Maybe I shouldn't read so much into it. Sometimes I wonder if it is or will ever be useful to anyone. Or am I just rehashing the same thing over and over? I guess I shouldn't read so much into it. I do like the idea of buying a bound book of my blog (offered by blogger). It really will be useful to someone, ME!
Thank you a., for continuing to comment! It is nice to not always be writing into a vacuum.
I have begun posting to hipmama.com (reposting these posts). I get a comment here and there.
I have been going through a lot of changes lately. It has been rough. Much because the change has been coupled with economic poverty. Much because the change is happening but SOOOO slow (my cat is dying, slowly....the move is coming, slowly). Much because there have been changes and stressors on so many fronts. Saturn entered my 12th house around Thanksgiving, which is precisely the time all of this stuff started happening, when my cat became deathly ill.
What I have learned is that, though I pride myself on embracing change, some change is more difficult for me to embrace than other change. Truth is that I like to have some control in my change, or I like to go with the flow; I don't want my change to have dangerous waterfalls or scary rapids! If I loose everything, wouldn't that make me a "bad mother"? (I am going to have to write soon on that personal archetype) I like to be the one to identify what needs to change and change it, and I am really good at that. I want to change without suffering shame.
Ramona isn't a baby, nor is she a toddler. She weaned herself over a year ago now (which was great). I am now the mother of a little girl, an extremely mature and conscientious four year old. That's one change I realize I haven't fully flowed with.
I wanted to move, but I wanted it to be on my terms when I had the finances to do so, to the place of my choice, not at a time when I am swimming in kitty medical bills and reduced teaching hours.
I am glad I learned to hustle on the streets as a teen. I am glad I spent 3 years in a 12-step program a while later. I am glad I took up yoga recently. Great tools for living life.
But I know that the truth is that the changes that are happening are happening for the best. How, the hell do I always come to that conclusion? Well one of my favorite quotes, of which I do not know the author, is "Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger." There is nothing wrong with adversity. And through my experiences with life, I know that someone, or something is looking out for me. I haven't figured out what that someone or something is yet. But I'm not sure that matters.
Last night, we played "Kids on Stage" (in Spanish, it has been a while since I have fostered her bilingual abilities). I remembered our honeymoon stage, where I used to sit and stare at my daughter in amazement, her every move exciting. I was amazed last night. Watching her contemplating how to physically represent the little picture she had drawn from a pile, "hmmmm, let's see, how can I do this one?" Sometimes she made her part more difficult by making the answer more specific. Instead of "hat" she made me guess, "Magic Hat," for example.
This day marks a day that I move forward (or at least around) rather than flounder, for a little while anyway.
Thank you a., for continuing to comment! It is nice to not always be writing into a vacuum.
I have begun posting to hipmama.com (reposting these posts). I get a comment here and there.
I have been going through a lot of changes lately. It has been rough. Much because the change has been coupled with economic poverty. Much because the change is happening but SOOOO slow (my cat is dying, slowly....the move is coming, slowly). Much because there have been changes and stressors on so many fronts. Saturn entered my 12th house around Thanksgiving, which is precisely the time all of this stuff started happening, when my cat became deathly ill.
What I have learned is that, though I pride myself on embracing change, some change is more difficult for me to embrace than other change. Truth is that I like to have some control in my change, or I like to go with the flow; I don't want my change to have dangerous waterfalls or scary rapids! If I loose everything, wouldn't that make me a "bad mother"? (I am going to have to write soon on that personal archetype) I like to be the one to identify what needs to change and change it, and I am really good at that. I want to change without suffering shame.
Ramona isn't a baby, nor is she a toddler. She weaned herself over a year ago now (which was great). I am now the mother of a little girl, an extremely mature and conscientious four year old. That's one change I realize I haven't fully flowed with.
I wanted to move, but I wanted it to be on my terms when I had the finances to do so, to the place of my choice, not at a time when I am swimming in kitty medical bills and reduced teaching hours.
I am glad I learned to hustle on the streets as a teen. I am glad I spent 3 years in a 12-step program a while later. I am glad I took up yoga recently. Great tools for living life.
But I know that the truth is that the changes that are happening are happening for the best. How, the hell do I always come to that conclusion? Well one of my favorite quotes, of which I do not know the author, is "Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger." There is nothing wrong with adversity. And through my experiences with life, I know that someone, or something is looking out for me. I haven't figured out what that someone or something is yet. But I'm not sure that matters.
Last night, we played "Kids on Stage" (in Spanish, it has been a while since I have fostered her bilingual abilities). I remembered our honeymoon stage, where I used to sit and stare at my daughter in amazement, her every move exciting. I was amazed last night. Watching her contemplating how to physically represent the little picture she had drawn from a pile, "hmmmm, let's see, how can I do this one?" Sometimes she made her part more difficult by making the answer more specific. Instead of "hat" she made me guess, "Magic Hat," for example.
This day marks a day that I move forward (or at least around) rather than flounder, for a little while anyway.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
another beachy day
Today I am blogging without being inspired to do so. Not that I don’t have anything to say, I just don’t feel like I need to say it. I'll try it...
Been feeling like all this radical parenting stuff comes from such a privileged place. I guess I am feeling that cause right now I don't feel so privileged. Unschooling? Are you kidding? When you are constantly under financial and social pressure, it is hard to do much more than survive. But maybe that is what makes it radical. Refusing to "just survive."
I think a weekly trip to the beach is in order until we have moved. I just got back from anther beach trip. It brought me, again, back to myself and my life, look at things for what they are right now and enjoy the bountiful beauty. When I’m stressed and worried, the cars, the bustle, the computer, the chit chat (what’s up?), technology, rat race, it all takes me out of myself and the here and now. That broken connection with my daughter confirms my broken connection with the real universe in which I am living.
I am working on mending the little tears (lagrimas or roturas?) in my relationship with my daughter these days. She is growing so fast, I know it would be a mistake to miss anything. I want to be as close and connected to her as I can, as she grows into her own independence, a beautiful girl/woman. Things are changing so rapidly I don’t want to have any regrets. I know myself enough to know what is important to me and missing the growth of my daughter would be the biggest regret of all!
In just two months of stress, I see the effects on Ramona. She wants to watch TV in every moment at home that there isn’t something exciting going on, to be distracted, kind of like I do with the computer. It all became so apparent to me, my despair in loosing her a little, the other day. I lost it, I lost my mind because Ramona wanted to watch TV AGAIN! I had decided it was time to get back to where we were a couple months ago, hanging, doing projects, reading, talking. But no, she just wanted to watch TV, and I flew off the handle, maybe worse than I ever have. I am not a dictator, I try to let my daughter have control in her life, but I just lost it, so much that Ramona turned off the TV (I didn't order her to do so). She turned it off because I went wacky. Out of concern. Out of sadness and fright for some of the unfortunate things I said (yelled?). I shocked myself, but knew…something needs to change. I need to work on this. Things aren’t just magically going to return to some past happy memory on the flip of a dime cause I feel ready for it. Three months ago is history.
Things are going more smoothly now. The beach, a great trip indeed, and this time not cut short by the fog blowing in. This time we had hours finished off as we watched the sun set while eating our snacks in the car.
It is weird though, after our relationship interrupted, it feels awkward to take action to persuade change. Before we were on a nice continuum, unorchestrated, comfortable, “natural,” close. It is important to me to do this right. This is my only child, and I expect it to stay that way. (Sometimes I wonder if having another child is even physically possible, as in will ever even have sex again?!? )
Been feeling like all this radical parenting stuff comes from such a privileged place. I guess I am feeling that cause right now I don't feel so privileged. Unschooling? Are you kidding? When you are constantly under financial and social pressure, it is hard to do much more than survive. But maybe that is what makes it radical. Refusing to "just survive."
I think a weekly trip to the beach is in order until we have moved. I just got back from anther beach trip. It brought me, again, back to myself and my life, look at things for what they are right now and enjoy the bountiful beauty. When I’m stressed and worried, the cars, the bustle, the computer, the chit chat (what’s up?), technology, rat race, it all takes me out of myself and the here and now. That broken connection with my daughter confirms my broken connection with the real universe in which I am living.
I am working on mending the little tears (lagrimas or roturas?) in my relationship with my daughter these days. She is growing so fast, I know it would be a mistake to miss anything. I want to be as close and connected to her as I can, as she grows into her own independence, a beautiful girl/woman. Things are changing so rapidly I don’t want to have any regrets. I know myself enough to know what is important to me and missing the growth of my daughter would be the biggest regret of all!
In just two months of stress, I see the effects on Ramona. She wants to watch TV in every moment at home that there isn’t something exciting going on, to be distracted, kind of like I do with the computer. It all became so apparent to me, my despair in loosing her a little, the other day. I lost it, I lost my mind because Ramona wanted to watch TV AGAIN! I had decided it was time to get back to where we were a couple months ago, hanging, doing projects, reading, talking. But no, she just wanted to watch TV, and I flew off the handle, maybe worse than I ever have. I am not a dictator, I try to let my daughter have control in her life, but I just lost it, so much that Ramona turned off the TV (I didn't order her to do so). She turned it off because I went wacky. Out of concern. Out of sadness and fright for some of the unfortunate things I said (yelled?). I shocked myself, but knew…something needs to change. I need to work on this. Things aren’t just magically going to return to some past happy memory on the flip of a dime cause I feel ready for it. Three months ago is history.
Things are going more smoothly now. The beach, a great trip indeed, and this time not cut short by the fog blowing in. This time we had hours finished off as we watched the sun set while eating our snacks in the car.
It is weird though, after our relationship interrupted, it feels awkward to take action to persuade change. Before we were on a nice continuum, unorchestrated, comfortable, “natural,” close. It is important to me to do this right. This is my only child, and I expect it to stay that way. (Sometimes I wonder if having another child is even physically possible, as in will ever even have sex again?!? )
Sunday, January 16, 2011
A New Narrative for a Single Mother
I wrote a blog post and published it for just 20 minutes before I deleted it. Too personal I said. I had written the disconnection of my life, all the way down to my daughter, and all about privilege (and when I write about that, I even irritate myself). Maybe it wasn’t that is was too personal, but really that I feel just slightly ashamed. Maybe a little afraid that some well-meaning person would give me a bit of superficial advice or worse they wouldn’t give me advice, just think they knew the answers to my problems.
Forget that, now I am writing a new post. It’s true, the feeling disconnected. It’s this disconnect from my self which makes me feel disconnected from life. Just going through the motions, my Self sitting inside wondering when and if she will be able to come out. The constant whirl and worry about my new home. I can tell myself what to think and I can think it, but I have to relocate, I have less than three weeks, I am at a lack for money to give me many options, I have a child and possessions (something I never had to worry about until the child) and those thoughts, worries, never seem to give me rest. Though I can make myself think what I want, it doesn’t seem that I can NOT think things that I don’t want. Will I find a place? Should I have taken that place last month that wasn’t ideal? Did I miss my chance? Are we going to loose everything?…It is exhausting. Its survival.
Yesterday, feeling the thinning connection from my daughter and fearing loosing some of it permanently, I decided to take a little outing, so we heading to the Cheese Factory by the lake to feed the ducks and geese. I was half-way to Bodega before I realized that I have taken the wrong road, but of course wrong is relative and we were really on the right road as we continued our way to the beach just past Bodega. I couldn’t believe how nice it was, this January afternoon was more agreeable than some “summer” afternoons on the Northern California Coast. Ramona, who often balks at the idea of the beach (due to the freezing weather and long car rides) was having a hey day, running barefoot, exploring driftwood buildings, sea dragon nests, making grass tacos for the seagulls.
She came to life, I came to life, the constant nagging drown out by the sound of the layers of waves beating on the shore and on themselves. Drown out but still there. But I felt a sense of connection that I had been missing. For many I know, connection is found in the midst of old friends, there they are grounded. My old friend is the Earth. I grew up an oddity in a world of constantly changing faces and towns, unfamiliar and mostly unwelcoming. But everywhere I went I always could count on nature to ground me, be honest with me and receive me, to allow me to be breathe freely and express myself.
The Earth, my old friend, its landscapes welcome me. I feel comfortable, connected, revitalized. I remember it is the world of people that confuses me. It is the power of nature that awes me: the complexity and simplicity that exist at once, the permanency. This trip to the beach reconnects me with my Self and I begin to understand my anxiety. Sometimes I forget that even though the narrative is already written, I am a writer as well and I can write my own narrative. The narrative that I grew up with was my mother’s. Though I am in many ways like my mother in my inability to engage with society on its terms and need for introspection and creativity, I don’t have to struggle to the death. “Anything is possible” IS a load of crap, but if I believe another world is possible, so is another narrative. I am not doomed to be the impoverished struggling single mom…forever. Or the working single mom who lives on stress and doesn't get to see her baby like she longs too. Or the resentful single mom who feels her child took away her life. Victimized... When I entered single motherhood, I did it with a determination not to live by the rules of our society that are bestowed upon single mothers and find a way to make our lives wonderful. Single motherhood in itself is breaking the rules of the Status Quo and for this single mothers are punished (just look at the statistics).
I became a mother for love. We play the hand we are dealt, but love is a wild card. Love has inspired me to be more, not become a cog for the sake of stability, but play the game like a shark.
Disconnection with my daughter had stemmed from my lack of inspiration as I fumbled around in the land of worry. Letting the Capitalist Machine we call an economy run my life sucks the inspiration from me, including the inspiration to inspire, teach, create with and mentor my daughter. We have just been hanging in the same room. Once in a while a painful realization that we aren’t engaging like I am used to tumbles over me and I tenderly reach over for a hug and a kiss, reminding myself that it won’t remain this way.
But today I seem to have lost the drive to struggle and worry and take too much action. I can’t look for a home like I was. There are only so many places to look. The remedy for despair is action, but sometimes too much action can be overwhelming too. Sometimes we need to let go and let things happen, navigate what the universe hands us. To be vigilant while understanding that sometimes it isn’t going to be your action and worry that are going to get things done, and whatever happens to you could be the best thing that could happen. Just for today I am letting go…
Forget that, now I am writing a new post. It’s true, the feeling disconnected. It’s this disconnect from my self which makes me feel disconnected from life. Just going through the motions, my Self sitting inside wondering when and if she will be able to come out. The constant whirl and worry about my new home. I can tell myself what to think and I can think it, but I have to relocate, I have less than three weeks, I am at a lack for money to give me many options, I have a child and possessions (something I never had to worry about until the child) and those thoughts, worries, never seem to give me rest. Though I can make myself think what I want, it doesn’t seem that I can NOT think things that I don’t want. Will I find a place? Should I have taken that place last month that wasn’t ideal? Did I miss my chance? Are we going to loose everything?…It is exhausting. Its survival.
Yesterday, feeling the thinning connection from my daughter and fearing loosing some of it permanently, I decided to take a little outing, so we heading to the Cheese Factory by the lake to feed the ducks and geese. I was half-way to Bodega before I realized that I have taken the wrong road, but of course wrong is relative and we were really on the right road as we continued our way to the beach just past Bodega. I couldn’t believe how nice it was, this January afternoon was more agreeable than some “summer” afternoons on the Northern California Coast. Ramona, who often balks at the idea of the beach (due to the freezing weather and long car rides) was having a hey day, running barefoot, exploring driftwood buildings, sea dragon nests, making grass tacos for the seagulls.
She came to life, I came to life, the constant nagging drown out by the sound of the layers of waves beating on the shore and on themselves. Drown out but still there. But I felt a sense of connection that I had been missing. For many I know, connection is found in the midst of old friends, there they are grounded. My old friend is the Earth. I grew up an oddity in a world of constantly changing faces and towns, unfamiliar and mostly unwelcoming. But everywhere I went I always could count on nature to ground me, be honest with me and receive me, to allow me to be breathe freely and express myself.
The Earth, my old friend, its landscapes welcome me. I feel comfortable, connected, revitalized. I remember it is the world of people that confuses me. It is the power of nature that awes me: the complexity and simplicity that exist at once, the permanency. This trip to the beach reconnects me with my Self and I begin to understand my anxiety. Sometimes I forget that even though the narrative is already written, I am a writer as well and I can write my own narrative. The narrative that I grew up with was my mother’s. Though I am in many ways like my mother in my inability to engage with society on its terms and need for introspection and creativity, I don’t have to struggle to the death. “Anything is possible” IS a load of crap, but if I believe another world is possible, so is another narrative. I am not doomed to be the impoverished struggling single mom…forever. Or the working single mom who lives on stress and doesn't get to see her baby like she longs too. Or the resentful single mom who feels her child took away her life. Victimized... When I entered single motherhood, I did it with a determination not to live by the rules of our society that are bestowed upon single mothers and find a way to make our lives wonderful. Single motherhood in itself is breaking the rules of the Status Quo and for this single mothers are punished (just look at the statistics).
I became a mother for love. We play the hand we are dealt, but love is a wild card. Love has inspired me to be more, not become a cog for the sake of stability, but play the game like a shark.
Disconnection with my daughter had stemmed from my lack of inspiration as I fumbled around in the land of worry. Letting the Capitalist Machine we call an economy run my life sucks the inspiration from me, including the inspiration to inspire, teach, create with and mentor my daughter. We have just been hanging in the same room. Once in a while a painful realization that we aren’t engaging like I am used to tumbles over me and I tenderly reach over for a hug and a kiss, reminding myself that it won’t remain this way.
But today I seem to have lost the drive to struggle and worry and take too much action. I can’t look for a home like I was. There are only so many places to look. The remedy for despair is action, but sometimes too much action can be overwhelming too. Sometimes we need to let go and let things happen, navigate what the universe hands us. To be vigilant while understanding that sometimes it isn’t going to be your action and worry that are going to get things done, and whatever happens to you could be the best thing that could happen. Just for today I am letting go…
Friday, January 14, 2011
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