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.

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