How do we do it? Barely. And
even at that, I some days wish for a pair of those inflatable water wings I had
as little kid in the 70s. Even when the surface looks calm, I am paddling madly
beneath it. That does not seem like it’s ever going to change. Will it get
easier? No, really. Do any of you have an answer?
We have three relatively
happy, relatively healthy kids. The issues they do have, while occasionally
extraordinarily taxing, are not life threatening or insurmountable. We have
really great insurance that pays for all kinds of doctors and therapies and
medicines to get them and keep them the healthiest they can be. And yet, and
yet. Are they each getting the time and attention they need from us? Should we
push them harder in school? Or sports? Or music? Be tougher on them? Maybe
we’re too tough at times. Are they doing enough, or doing too much? They have
so much STUFF. And yet, they have no shoes that fit because they keep growing
and my schedule and budget cannot keep up.
We love our dogs. And they
never get walked, and don’t get to the park, and don’t get brushed or bathed
enough. Their training leaves something to be desired. The chickens are pretty
self sustaining, except our garden looks like a tiny prison yard in reverse:
all the good stuff in fenced in, because they eat everything in sight, no matter
what the books say.
I have an amazing partner.
Who never gets enough of my attention. Who is most often the recipient of my
complaints and the brunt of my bad moods. Who should get to come home from a
stressful day at work to a tidy-ish house, decently behaved children, and a
healthy food. I cannot remember the last time that actually happened.
Money runs out like water-where
I do not know. The house is a disaster. It is dirty and full of stuff we do not
need. Where does it come from? And why is it so hard to get rid of? And friends
who are too young are dealing with ill and dying parents, and it’s so sad and
painful because they were there while we grew up. Thankfully, those are not the
same loved ones dealing with their own illnesses, because there are so many of
those: cancer, and Crohn’s, and autism, and depression. And every week for the
last moth, I have learned of one more couple we knew were strong together who
are now parting ways. And yet, and yet….
We had an impromptu BBQ with
old friends last night. A few hours of togetherness to end one week and begin
another, and it was wonderful. And we stopped by the beach on the way home, and
our kids were ridiculous and happy, and it was wonderful. I reread 4 years of
Facebook posts and it made me smile, and it was wonderful. And I finally
cleaned my office and found love notes from my husband and kids, and that was
wonderful, too. After too long away from this blog, because LIFE is always
hanging around, begging for attention, I am writing something, and that is
wonderful. We have summer plans that are wonderful. I open the door and the
chickens run to see me, and I walk by and the dogs wag their tails just because
I am here, and it’s wonderful. And there is just so much that’s good, and
growing, and beautiful, if I can just be present for it. And when I can, my
heart gets full and I can bravely move forward into the worries and the
questions and the scary things, because the wonderful stuff is so sustaining.
So how do we remember the
wonder? How do we become present to really appreciate a clean kitchen counter,
or the warm sun on our backs while we weed the yard, or all the times the kids
did remember their lunch? Is it simply the human condition to be bogged down by
the everyday? If I’m just more energized or organized or exercised, then can I
focus more on the good stuff?
I somehow know that although
we keep it inside (because we don’t want to be a downer or seen as complainers
or maybe we feel the need to maintain the illusion), I somehow know I’m not alone
here. That the feelings of drowning in life are not as uncommon as we’d like to
lead others to believe. And I don’t know how to help that, without all of us
sinking together. But I do think that maybe, if we can give each other moments
of wonder; if we can help each other pause for a minute and breathe; if we can
be human and present for each other; maybe that goes a really long way to
filling up those inflatable water wings.
Right now, I have a bathroom
that needs cleaning and a dog snoring softly in the sunshine…I think I will
have a moment of wonder before getting on with life.
