I Was Going To
I had big plans for this weekend. Gardening. Sewing. Cooking.
Whist doing the dishes on Saturday night, a ceramic ikea bowl shattered in my hand...so it was off to the emergency room. (As a note, if you ever are in a crisis, I am the woman you call. Loose an arm, get severe food poisoning or any other major catastrophe, I am the one you want. I remain cool, calm and collected in the most horrific of circumstances and I have a cast-iron stomach for the clean up...as long as its not my own blood.) After blacking out a couple of times, a lot of painful poking and prodding, blood and gore, a couple of stitches now grace the palm of my left hand.
It appears, in palmistry at least, my life line has taken a different turn and the best laid plans turned into enforced rest. You may have noticed, I don't do "rest" well and my dogged determination to do found me frustrated and in pain for most of the day.
In desperation, I picked up my recently acquired SARK book, Make Your Creative Dreams Real: A Plan for Procrastinators, Perfectionists, Busy People, and People Who Would Really Rather Sleep All Day
"When you are fully, or partially, engaged in living your dreams you actually create more energy. This energy can then be used to help others in creative and interesting ways.
People who feel stifled or bored by their work, or blocked or repressed about their creative dreams, will barely have enough energy to function in their own lives, and not much or none to act on behalf of others"
That passage really stuck with me as a trueism about my own life as a mother. I admit that I am often critical of the cultural messages around parenting that tell us we need to "Take a Break" "Indulge" "Escape" from our children by consuming a new brand of bubble bath/chocolate/shopping spree, but this I get. This I can believe in. By digging deeper into our own passions in life, we have more to give others. Its not about taking a break, but about fuelling a fire that creates more energy for everyone.
The notion that creativity takes time away from other things is nonsense. For me, making time to write, to crochet, to sew, to paint is not a luxury, it is an essential element to the day to day functioning of my household. On days where life takes over and I am unable to even take a few moments to write, I have less to give and can feel myself dragging through the day, resentful of the domestic chains that bind. But those few captured moments may mean that the sinkful of dishes remain half-done, but what is completed is done better. I am able to give more to Ellis in less time and be more present in the time we have together.
Sore hand, but powerful realisation...seems like a good trade off (so long as feeling returns to my index finger).
...and to anyone coming over on Saturday, forgive the untidy flowerbeds and dust. I have a great excuse.