Since moving to Vancouver, it’s been all new people all the time. And while there is an element of this I enjoy, it’s quite exhausting, especially since this is our second move in just over two years. Meeting all these new people really highlights the “script” that I have about myself and my experiences. When I find myself saying the same thing over and over again, albeit to new people (I hope), I have to come to grips that I really do just have one story right now.
I’m of two minds about this. The first is critical – for me, the first is always critical. I feel that, more than ever before, I am defined by my relationships, not necessarily my intellectual accomplishments. This is terrifying to me because relationships are intangible, fluid, and not usually fit for a resume. I struggle with the fear that I’m simply marking time and when I re-emerge into the world, I’ll be back to my twenty seven year old self in an older body.
Luckily, my second mind is much more feminist and counter-cultural (Well, not lucky for my friends and relatives who were forced to be around this at their obnoxious beginnings – because discovering yourself is almost always obnoxious at first. That’s how you know you are doing it well).
First of all, I feel strongly that care-taking roles are important and very undervalued. I’m all for the element of nature, but I will lose all hope in humanity if nurture also doesn’t play an important part. I’d like my baby to turn into a compassionate, non-violent, non-exploitative adult who is really happy to be alive. Unsurprisingly, this takes a lot time; sadly, it does not take much tv.
Also, ethics in regard to the consumption of food and non-perishables takes quite a bit of time as well. Living the life that Ry and I want simply requires a full time home-maker at this moment. And, due to temperament and, let’s just be controversially honest, biology, I’m taking on that role. Quite happily. I’m quite fascinated by my two year old. I recently read that having a child gives you back the first four years of your own life – in terms of consciousness. More than that, it also is helping me understand the nature of power. A two year old spends 92 percent of his day exploring power relationships. The other 8 percent is spent watching Mr. Dressup (I’m not always busy raising a good human being. Sometimes I’m writing a blog).
So, as per usual, I’m uneasy with my life choices, but I’m going to trust that doing something worth-while will lead to personal growth, that even though the skills might not sit well culturally, there is an implicit value.
Oh my god, I just became Oprah. This is totally working out how I imagined it.
I am so, so happy you wrote about this. I’m often uneasy with life choices in advance, and this is one of them, though of course, no choice has been made and may not need to be made for some time. I love how you expressed your vision for your baby and that you described your circumstances in terms of the life you want. What I struggle with (in advance, which is really a waste, I realize), is whether the critical part of me behaves horribly, takes it out on her family, and other manifestations of feeling starved for that sense of self worth that we tend to rely on work, etc, for.
PS. The fascination sounds fun, wish I was around for it!
I’m so glad that you are conflicted about this, Rose! No, I’m not. Because I like you and feeling conflicted sucks.
I think that having the awareness, as you stated, that our feelings of self worth come from outside work is a large part of the battle. I don’t define outside-work as successful and home-work as note. Just knowing this fact removes those feelings that sometimes show up. There are two other things that have helped me, personally, make this decision:
I have friends who thrive as mothers and partners due in large part to their jobs. They love their jobs and their jobs make them better people. I knew I didn’t love my job and before Walt even showed up I really loved the domestic aspects of my life. It was hard to walk about from something because I simply “didn’t like it.” But it would have been far worse for me to simply push through for an entire career.
I also hate a hectic life. I hate it so much that I begin to treat everything as a checklist item to be finished quickly. This could mean the dentist or a concert, I hated it all. I really craved the idea that I could, more or less, set the rhythm of my day, which is something very important to me. Now that I used the phrase, “rhythm of my day,” I have to go and drink tea and think about the consciousness of a butterfly.