Basically, yes, it is all about me. That is what this blog is intended for. For me to write, and write and write and write and post silly photos and phots I love and thoughts I have and ideas that come to me and what ever else takes my fancy. So if you are reading this and you are not me, then beware! There will be raw and unadulterated bits of my soul in here and rather than be offended by them, perhaps you could feel honoured that you are one of the few people who gets to know the real spark that conceived me, that is me, that allows me to live and breath in this rather pudgy human form.
I Double Dare YOU!
As with all things in this universe, it would seem that you are presented with the things you need just when you need them most (whether you think you want them or not!).
Today I was directed to this video and to say that it turned me into a quivering, teary mess would be putting it lightly. Now I appreciate if this does not have the same effect on you, perhaps you are one of the many talented and self-directed individuals who knew from the very beginning exactly what you wanted from life and dedicated yourself to achieving that end. I however, am not; well, at least not yet!
There are many, MANY things that hover on my radar, on the outskirts of my life, like a dream I always wake too early from, never to find out what actually happened, what it all meant and where it fitted in. Well, it's time to re-run a few of those dreams and open up my protective bubble. Watch Kelly's video then let me lie down on your couch and tell you all about it.
Kelly's words REALLY rang true for me. My biggest secret is 'what I really want to do with my life'. This secret is so big that I even seem to have kept it from myself. About a year ago I began searching for the combination to the lock on this vault and must have stumbled across a few important numbers because I actually got a little peek inside. What I glimpsed seemed to hold a world of opportunities, of freedom, of self-expression, of worthiness, appreciation and fulfillment and it felt GOOD!
In that space I wrote what follows. For me it was a way of making sense of my recent past and I hoped it might help me to gauge whether 'being a writer' was something I should bother following up on, or if it was just another fuzzy dream that meant I had spent too much time on the internet!
I realize this is a long post, so this would be a good point to go make yourself a cuppa or duck to the loo!
It started out as a bit of a joke that I talked to some other mothers about – having some time out for myself, a night or two off – Oh, how we laughed! But the feeling just wouldn’t leave me alone. The more I tried not to think about it the more it crept into my thoughts. I rationalised it to within an inch of its life. My husband was a competent father and if truth be told could actually do with some one-on-one time with the kids; if only I hadn’t just spat the dummy about living in a partly renovated house, if only I’d helped more in the past nine months, we might have been finished by now and I could warrant taking some time away for myself.
Knowing these situations can lead to conflict but wanting to try my luck anyway I shared my Walkabout ‘joke’ with my husband. The stony silence quietened the desire for a day or so, but I found I just couldn’t silence it. By the third or fourth ‘joke’ I had made, my fantastically understanding man suggested I may do well taking a day out. As luck would have it my parents were out of town, so I headed to their clean, empty, quiet house with nothing more than my PJs, a bottle of wine and an old scrapbook. I ran a deep bath, filled my glass and melted into the water. My Walkabout had begun.
In this time I had a good long look at my life and tried to work out how I had gotten to this point and why the hell I felt so truly lost. Where did my optimism go? Had all of my organisational skills been left in the desk drawer on my last day of work before Maternity Leave? How could I have been so lax? And how had I not managed to teach my husband to use the washing machine – four years ago? Why did I shout at the children all the time? Hadn’t I learned all about the ‘Responsible Thinking Classroom’? Didn’t I remember the questions to ask them and the order in which they should be asked? How come they weren’t brimming with respect for me and using their impeccable manners in every conversation? Is two years old really too young to understand that Mummy just might lose the plot if they do that thing to their sister just one more time! And where has my waist gone? How come my belly button folds all the way in and for heaven’s sake, how much does a boob job really cost?
But most importantly; where was I? Not the mum who runs on auto pilot. The real me, the me with hopes and dreams and goals of her own. Where’s the woman I thought would be standing here now? The one with the fulfilling job who shares the care of her children with the man she chose to journey through life with? Where’s the mother that understands the needs of her children and the stages of life that they are at. The woman who knows that love and work and homes don’t run themselves, but need continual effort on the part of all family members. Where’s the powerful woman who used to stick up for herself at times like these. Where is that person I used to be? I know she’s in there somewhere but how come I can’t reach her? I’m sure she’s stretching her hand out to me, begging me to let her back into my life. Begging me to do whatever it is I have to to bring her out into the sunshine again.
Space. Space is what I knew I needed. Somewhere quiet I could sleep. Oh, sleep. How I remember your warm comfortable weight against my skin. How you allowed me to dream. To dream my own dreams, to solve the problems of the day and give me glimpses into the future. How I miss you. How can such a fundamental human need like sleep be so overlooked by so many people so willingly?! I want to shove a screaming baby into the arms of someone playing computer games all night – they’ll be up anyway and we all know there’s a mum out there that could really do with a rest.
…………………
On my Walkabout I did ‘find (part of) myself’ at my parents home. The more I thought about it the more I realised that that was where I left myself last. It was the last time I felt anywhere near good about myself or in control of my spiralling Mother Guilt and it was before falling pregnant with my second child. After two years the hard work and sacrifices I had made to raise my first born were starting to pay off. She was beginning to be more independent and so was I.
During this time my husband was working out of town for months on end and my parents were off spending my inheritance, so I spent a lot of time at their house ‘looking after the place’. It would appear that their house had just repaid the favour.
When my son was born we stayed with Mum and Dad to be close to our hospital of choice. In hindsight I can see now that the trauma of finally accepting I would be a mother of two (something I had quite talked myself out of ever doing) was just too much for my core being, so she simply stepped out somewhere she knew she would be safe. I guess she realised that if she raised her head while I went through the motions of learning to mother differently, my son may not have made it this far and my nuclear family may well have imploded!
……………
Serendipitous fate lead me to a book a little while ago that I have used to find a bit more about my life’s purpose. In a few short pages it did what I have been struggling to do for several years now. A twenty minute exercise unearthed something that world travel, selling off possessions, moving house, renovating and belly button pondering had not managed. Although my knowledge of what I now need to do isn’t crystal clear, having some idea sure goes a long way to understanding myself, what I want in life and how to begin about going out and getting it.
If you feel that there is something missing deep within you, if you look at photographs of yourself and wonder where that person went, or just don’t recognize yourself anymore then Please, for your own sake and that of your families, take the time to go Walkabout and trust that the girl you thought you’d always be will find a way back to you when she knows it is time.
Today I was directed to this video and to say that it turned me into a quivering, teary mess would be putting it lightly. Now I appreciate if this does not have the same effect on you, perhaps you are one of the many talented and self-directed individuals who knew from the very beginning exactly what you wanted from life and dedicated yourself to achieving that end. I however, am not; well, at least not yet!
There are many, MANY things that hover on my radar, on the outskirts of my life, like a dream I always wake too early from, never to find out what actually happened, what it all meant and where it fitted in. Well, it's time to re-run a few of those dreams and open up my protective bubble. Watch Kelly's video then let me lie down on your couch and tell you all about it.
Kelly's words REALLY rang true for me. My biggest secret is 'what I really want to do with my life'. This secret is so big that I even seem to have kept it from myself. About a year ago I began searching for the combination to the lock on this vault and must have stumbled across a few important numbers because I actually got a little peek inside. What I glimpsed seemed to hold a world of opportunities, of freedom, of self-expression, of worthiness, appreciation and fulfillment and it felt GOOD!
In that space I wrote what follows. For me it was a way of making sense of my recent past and I hoped it might help me to gauge whether 'being a writer' was something I should bother following up on, or if it was just another fuzzy dream that meant I had spent too much time on the internet!
I realize this is a long post, so this would be a good point to go make yourself a cuppa or duck to the loo!
(an extract from)
WALKABOUT WOMEN
(a yet to be written compilation of lives lived less randomly)
I have just been Walkabout. I don’t know why I didn’t just call it a holiday, or a rest, I think it was because I knew I had work to do. I figured I might get a little more sleep than usual, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t resemble any holiday I had ever taken!WALKABOUT WOMEN
(a yet to be written compilation of lives lived less randomly)
It started out as a bit of a joke that I talked to some other mothers about – having some time out for myself, a night or two off – Oh, how we laughed! But the feeling just wouldn’t leave me alone. The more I tried not to think about it the more it crept into my thoughts. I rationalised it to within an inch of its life. My husband was a competent father and if truth be told could actually do with some one-on-one time with the kids; if only I hadn’t just spat the dummy about living in a partly renovated house, if only I’d helped more in the past nine months, we might have been finished by now and I could warrant taking some time away for myself.
Knowing these situations can lead to conflict but wanting to try my luck anyway I shared my Walkabout ‘joke’ with my husband. The stony silence quietened the desire for a day or so, but I found I just couldn’t silence it. By the third or fourth ‘joke’ I had made, my fantastically understanding man suggested I may do well taking a day out. As luck would have it my parents were out of town, so I headed to their clean, empty, quiet house with nothing more than my PJs, a bottle of wine and an old scrapbook. I ran a deep bath, filled my glass and melted into the water. My Walkabout had begun.
In this time I had a good long look at my life and tried to work out how I had gotten to this point and why the hell I felt so truly lost. Where did my optimism go? Had all of my organisational skills been left in the desk drawer on my last day of work before Maternity Leave? How could I have been so lax? And how had I not managed to teach my husband to use the washing machine – four years ago? Why did I shout at the children all the time? Hadn’t I learned all about the ‘Responsible Thinking Classroom’? Didn’t I remember the questions to ask them and the order in which they should be asked? How come they weren’t brimming with respect for me and using their impeccable manners in every conversation? Is two years old really too young to understand that Mummy just might lose the plot if they do that thing to their sister just one more time! And where has my waist gone? How come my belly button folds all the way in and for heaven’s sake, how much does a boob job really cost?
But most importantly; where was I? Not the mum who runs on auto pilot. The real me, the me with hopes and dreams and goals of her own. Where’s the woman I thought would be standing here now? The one with the fulfilling job who shares the care of her children with the man she chose to journey through life with? Where’s the mother that understands the needs of her children and the stages of life that they are at. The woman who knows that love and work and homes don’t run themselves, but need continual effort on the part of all family members. Where’s the powerful woman who used to stick up for herself at times like these. Where is that person I used to be? I know she’s in there somewhere but how come I can’t reach her? I’m sure she’s stretching her hand out to me, begging me to let her back into my life. Begging me to do whatever it is I have to to bring her out into the sunshine again.
Space. Space is what I knew I needed. Somewhere quiet I could sleep. Oh, sleep. How I remember your warm comfortable weight against my skin. How you allowed me to dream. To dream my own dreams, to solve the problems of the day and give me glimpses into the future. How I miss you. How can such a fundamental human need like sleep be so overlooked by so many people so willingly?! I want to shove a screaming baby into the arms of someone playing computer games all night – they’ll be up anyway and we all know there’s a mum out there that could really do with a rest.
…………………
On my Walkabout I did ‘find (part of) myself’ at my parents home. The more I thought about it the more I realised that that was where I left myself last. It was the last time I felt anywhere near good about myself or in control of my spiralling Mother Guilt and it was before falling pregnant with my second child. After two years the hard work and sacrifices I had made to raise my first born were starting to pay off. She was beginning to be more independent and so was I.
During this time my husband was working out of town for months on end and my parents were off spending my inheritance, so I spent a lot of time at their house ‘looking after the place’. It would appear that their house had just repaid the favour.
When my son was born we stayed with Mum and Dad to be close to our hospital of choice. In hindsight I can see now that the trauma of finally accepting I would be a mother of two (something I had quite talked myself out of ever doing) was just too much for my core being, so she simply stepped out somewhere she knew she would be safe. I guess she realised that if she raised her head while I went through the motions of learning to mother differently, my son may not have made it this far and my nuclear family may well have imploded!
……………
Serendipitous fate lead me to a book a little while ago that I have used to find a bit more about my life’s purpose. In a few short pages it did what I have been struggling to do for several years now. A twenty minute exercise unearthed something that world travel, selling off possessions, moving house, renovating and belly button pondering had not managed. Although my knowledge of what I now need to do isn’t crystal clear, having some idea sure goes a long way to understanding myself, what I want in life and how to begin about going out and getting it.
If you feel that there is something missing deep within you, if you look at photographs of yourself and wonder where that person went, or just don’t recognize yourself anymore then Please, for your own sake and that of your families, take the time to go Walkabout and trust that the girl you thought you’d always be will find a way back to you when she knows it is time.
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excelent blog congratulations
ReplyDeleteregard from Reus Catalonia
thank you
i was led to your page after you left a comment on sguiggle mums last post---i was intrigued by something and followed your link. after reading a few of your posts, i came to this one. i have a 4 year old boy and 2 year old girl, both up and about around me, and i knew as i started to read this post, that i needed a moment---i asked them to go outside and play; that i will be out in a few minuted after i just read something---and thank goodness i did. i cried too. when i watched the video, i cried....and when i finished reading what you wrote, i cried....and especially when i read the last paragrapgh, i cried. my goodness!!! this is SO spot-on for where i am at! i adore being a mother to two amazing kiddies, and i enjoy being a wife to my dear husband----but oh my, where on earth have "I" gone??? i know i am now a mother and a wife, and this is such a special honor, but after a few years of heart-ache and depression from various things, i have very much lost "kym". and it is a struggle to explain this to some, as being a mother and wife is what i am "called" to do now---and i am, but where is the rest of me gone? how do i feel that the "kym" from before, is in fact, moulded with the new roles? i don't feel that yet. i feel that it all happened so fast and i was left behind. oh dear, i could really go on and on. but i will now just say thank you!!!!!! you really spoke to the heart of me. truly to the heart of me. i appreciate you opening up. i appreciate you allowing us to be in your world. i appreciate that i can journey with you, while i myself, journey to find all of kym again. thank you! thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your beautiful words Kym. I think there are so many women out there who have felt like this but for one reason or another feel unable to talk about it. Thank you for sharing your experience here.
ReplyDeleteIf there is one thing I could offer that I have learned thus far it is the knowledge that nothing is permanent and that there is greatness in acceptance and allowing yourself to fully 'be' in your current circumstances. This acceptance has been for me the thing that has brought the greatest rewards.
thank you for this claudette. thank you.
ReplyDelete