life giving

The cursor blinks in the top corner of this blank screen taunting me like the dripping of water, like the ticking of a clock that mocks me with each second spent since seconds are hard to come by these days.  And when a second does come, I'm paralyzed by indecision.  Do I clean the kitchen, fold the laundry, swap out kids clothes for new sizes for the millionth time, paint that window trim, organize our bathroom closet, read a book, rest, write?  Whatever I do seems the wrong thing.  If I rest, I'm kicking myself for not being productive.  If I try to be productive, I'm kicking myself for not fueling my soul.

These seconds came because my husband took the kids out of the house for a few hours.  He knew that if he didn't, he would have a mess of a wife for the next week.   I'm an introvert, and I desperately need alone time to recharge, and quite simply to be a functioning human being who isn't a basket case day in and day out.

We have a 6 year old, 3 year old, and 4 month old (at the time of this writing).   I don't sail into motherhood gracefully.  Rather, I crash land with each new birth.  I used to beat myself up about this, but now I just accept it.  I know that I will go to dark places, that I will take more time than most to bond with my kids, that I need time to myself away from my kids, even that brand new baby.

On the whole, our life is beautiful.  Three amazing kids, a home of our very own, great community of friends and family.   But I have often felt like I'm drowning, like someone is standing over me, holding me down with a hand on top of my head as I thrash and flail against them.  I have felt so defeated as the house is messy again, my son screams in my face, my daughter runs to her room and slams the door, the baby has trouble nursing, there's dinner to cook again and clean up again, diapers to change, lunches to make, toilets to scrub, parenting books to read.  What is urgent overshadowing what is important.

Yes, this is holy work, this raising of tiny humans, but I don't know how to balance the monotony with the chaos of this task.  I don't want this mundane hand on the top of my head.  I haven't learned yet to find beauty in the simple rhythms or to understand that sometimes it's these ordinary moments that make life extraordinary.  I'm working on it.

And so, I seek.  I write.  I make a list of what brings me joy...what is life-giving to me:

And I write down what is life-sucking:

And then I stared at them...hard...and what should have been blatantly obvious suddenly became so.  Almost EVERYTHING I'm doing, the things that make up most of my days, are on the life-sucking list. Hardly anything I'm doing is on the life-giving list.  Somewhere along the way, I got lost in my own life.

I normally pride myself in my strength and being able to handle any challenge, but sometimes that self-sufficiency becomes a crutch not that holds me up, but that slows me down and makes me limp.  I'm learning to ask for help and to say specifically what I need.   I'm learning to think about what brings me joy and pursue those things even if in the margins.  Hence, this blog that is stumbling along.

So, I ask you.  What brings you joy?  What makes you come alive?  What is life-giving to you?

Whatever you must do...do that.

If you'll humor me, write what is life-giving to you in the comments here.  I dare you.

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