more silence from celeste. two crazy busy weeks, with literally every moment occupied with more than one task as the demands of crafting for the farmer's market, stumbling over piles of things-in-progress, running after my sons, playing, shopping, cooking, discussing parenting challenges with my sister, fighting the recently constant tide of depression, worrying about money, wondering what to do next.
i never want to write these things here. many blogs i love are all about beauty, about finding the beauty in the moment, usually hiding the recent chaos, the piles of laundry, the dirty dishes. the writing is excellent, the photos polished, gorgeously framed, glowing with light and passion and love. i'd love to come here with daily writing about my amazing boys, about successes in mothering, growth as an artisan, discovery in homemaking and leave out how daunted i am, how overwhelmed and lost in this land of single and unemployed twin parenting.
so it turns out that the heavy task of shaping my current surroundings into something exclusively happy and shiny, or just having the brain power to sit quietly and suss out the beauty of my days, this prevents me from writing at all. i don't keep a paper journal. and because i'm afraid to be judged for my faults, afraid to frame myself in negativity (which is also not true or complete by any means), i stop writing. i stop communicating with myself save some brief quiet moments when i first lie down on my bed at night, those moments before my dark whispering ego selves start their insistent conversations and keep me up in the late hours of the night.
so what do i do? i guess i'm going to just try to write it down. i hope if you decide to keep reading that you'll read my words with a wider lens, knowing that if i'm talking about lack of this or that, or a particular parenting test, or what have you, that it's only here because i'm trying to figure it out. have to write it down. want to remember these dominant lessons, the ones that are thorny and sting, along side the ones that unfold easily in luscious colors and textures.
because that's really how life is, isn't it?
i've been feeling for quite some time that i'm in a very "live and let live" phase of my life. so i'm going to exercise the same expansive allowance for myself to just show up and celebrate the mess along with the beautiful.
Celeste, I believe that the more we as mother's (and perhaps parents in general) perpetuate the always happy and shiny and beautiful myth the more we alienate ourselves. The more guilt we heap on ourselves when things are just plain hard. And by sharing all of it - the beautiful and amazing and the just plain f'ing hard struggle that goes along with it - the more we can honor both. That's about all the coherent thought I have at the moment - too many nights staying up way too late getting things done. I applaud all of you and hope you have a safe space here to share whatever you need to share.
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