I am in the throes of a vertigo inducing identity crisis. I'm sure it will pass? As I acclimate to being "home" again. Maybe it will pass.
I don't know how to explain how overwhelmingly insecure I am right now.
I think it's quite possible that this has come from seeking too many things online.
That somehow in attempting to create work for myself and an income for my family, I stopped listening to the still, small voice.
If I'm not really meant to do this, then what?
I feel old, overweight and useless. What in the world was I thinking?
Who am I really? And why do I continually create situations for myself that involve struggle and doubt?
Maybe this has come from reading my father's resume when I was home. I'm still thinking about it a week later. While we were sustained comfortably by his career as a supervisor at General Motors, we were also sustained by his farming. My dad was an award winning gardener. His resume shows his life's circle, with a beginning and and end in farm work. One job that he left after retirement was working at an automotive dealership. He actually wrote: "left due to boredom and low wages."
Which is the kind of line that gives me an out.
If I choose that.
Here's the cycle of thought going on now:
What did I seek when embarking on the road of academic achievement? Was it only for my inner curiosity?
I might go back to working the soil. Return to the basic existence of growing. In fact I want that so much that it hurts a little inside.
I was once a manager in a beautiful garden center. When it closed, I was completely bereft. Since books had always been a comfort to me in times of insecurity and stress, I sought them again and returned to school.
I suppose the internet has now replaced a great chunk of my book reading. And I am tired. Tired of all the face booking and twittering and even, yes, blogging. I don't mean that I'm tired of the people on blogger, because my friends here are wonderful.
The trouble is that I want so much to be able to commit to something wholeheartedly and believe in it to the very end. There is no security in this endeavor so far. It is entirely whimsical, playful experimentation.
Is it time to attend to something a little more....serious?
What does that line in scripture mean for me..."this too, shall pass?"
Perhaps I can construct something with so many complex little fragments and fit them together in the jigsaw puzzle of my life. Maybe I can make my life... a poem.
here for a moment
certain of her death
wanting to live
to work the soil
to pull the weeds
to feel the sun
and wind. To hike the paths and to kiss her man.
She hurts inside because her daughter is almost an adult. It is the almost that hurts.
The resume a line of slash marks
nanny/ mother/ cook/dishwasher/cashier/ housekeeper / laundry/ driver/ buyer / spender/ grower/landscaper/maintenance technician/ artist/ writer/ reader/ thinker/ believer/ friend/ lover/ daughter/ sister/ neighbor/ volunteer/ teacher/ speaker/ over achiever/ inventor/ owner/seeker/ dreamer/ runner/hiker/ traveler/armchair naturalist/ musician/
I am a jumbled-up mixed-bag of a person...which either makes me somewhat interesting or completely neurotic. I can't just pick one thing.
Someone once said that a Naturalist is a generalist in the field of science.
I am just like that. A generalist. Generally good a lot of things.
But there is this one thing that I hold... just like my dad who wrote on his resume under the column "interests."
"Family. First and foremost."
When you're a mother, it's important to be generally good at a lot of things.