My baby boy turned one on Tuesday.
I can hardly believe it. 12 months have passed since he came to me, fist at his head, ready to do life on the outside.
And life as I knew it was turned upside down, inside out, and changed utterly, forever.
I've spent this past year attempting to fit my old self, my known life, into this new one, without much success.
I've watched (with envy) so many other moms manage to (somehow) juggle new motherhood with their creative writing lives and continue to produce such beautiful and meaty, bountiful fare for themselves and their audiences.
All the while, I've been unable to so much as journal privately more than twice in this past year. Seriously. Two times. I've been able to sit and write something about my feelings, alone, twice.
Some of that is due to my time no longer being "my" time. But some of it is that my mind is no longer the same. I can't focus as I used to.
I've discovered about myself that my process, creatively, is largely rooted in the need for spaciousness- the space to daydream, to contemplate. Blame it on my Pisces nature- I need to be able to float in those deep waters for inspiration to find me.
At least, that's been the process until now.
Motherhood is requiring a new and often uncomfortable groundedness of me that, I'll be honest, I probably never would have chosen for myself.
My son's gift to me- my little Taurean dirt child, born under a Taurus sun, a Taurus moon and a solar eclipse. (Yes, all in the same day).
My child is teaching me the ways of low-to-the-earth living. I've resisted. I won't lie to you. I've yanked back, kicking and screaming (yes, there's been screaming, just ask my husband and mother).
But my little bull boy finds me, again and again, and pulls my feet back down to earth, then my hands, then my chest, and finally this stubborn head of mine that would rather rest in the clouds of deep spiritual thoughts than wipe up the shit and the smashed green peas and the snot and the drool and the salty tears of too-tired, babyland, I need you mama-ness.
He knows what I need- he reminds me, as all tiny children do their mothers, that my most important occupation- my most sacred creative task right now is loving him, full stop.
So my "process" will have to adapt, become more earthy, flexible, able to sink down as I do.
I have no idea what that will look like, but I cannot compare myself to other women who seem to have found their own rhythm- something I can't claim to have found yet, even a full year into parenthood.
What I have learned is that I need to let go of my desire for perfection, and the guilt that assails me when I don't achieve it. I have to let go of my ideas about what my life, creatively, was going to be, and allow it to become whatever it will now.
I've been carrying two minds around with me for more than a year now- the mommy mind and the writer mind. Trying to give them equal attention has proven impossible and painful to keep separate within my heart.
On this eve of Beltane, as I think on the bonfires burning brightly, the celebration of new passionate life bursting everywhere around me, I have to consider that my own new life looks quieter, and that the things I used to envision can be offered up to those flames now. Not with bitterness- just acceptance.
I won't be writing here in the foreseeable future, and I won't be trying to keep up daily posts on my Facebook page. It's become a burden trying to keep up there and do life at the same time, so I'm
letting it go in favor of my sanity.
I don't know what my future holds, except to say that I will always be Cain's mama, and that is a gift beyond measure that has come with a deep and grounding presence into my daily (and nightly) life.
He's requiring a maturity of me I didn't know I lacked, and am happy (and sometimes disturbed) to discover I can summon. He's growing me up into the kind of woman I always wanted to be, and never expected to be. It's humbling.
So this is where I leave you, for now. I will say goodbye, for now, and blessing to you, and thank you. You've followed my journey as I've shared my own very human thoughts these past few years, and the response I've received from so many of you has been an unexpected gift.
Blessings on your Beltane, and be well friends.
Don't hesitate to reach out! I can be messaged here or through my Facebook page ( which I will keep up, just not daily). I love hearing from you all, and will respond- I just can't promise it will be right away- we're quite busy playing and reading books on the floor these days )