Brave Balance

Oh here we are again with the battle of the shoulds. The productivity shame that your guilt teases out of you when you're not earning the income that you used to. When you stay in your soft clothes all day because you don't have a meeting to go to in a stuffy office.

It's the quest for careering and financial gain versus being home with my kids and being present with them. My kids deserve the best of me, not the remnants, not the leftovers, not the stressed out frazzled unfocused bits of me. My kids are my purpose right now and I want to be their roots and their wings. I want to help them see what they're capable of and I can't do that if I'm not around. I was gone for so many years. And now I'm home.

So, this shame of not being in a full-time professional role, of not having a regular paycheck and a boss to be accountable to, it's not going to win. I have an amazing opportunity to pursue flexible projects that I can charge a nice fee for (a professional fee), and balance that with the privilege of getting to live my BEST life and see my kids every morning, every evening, every weekend, and be a consistent and dedicated MOM.

I need to ENJOY this to the fullest and appreciate it for the gift that it is. It's amazing. I will not muddy it up with guilt about "should" in the career category. My next career venture will come. Now I will embrace the chance to be the mom that I always wanted to be.

Stop the second guessing. Stop the guilt-tripping. Brave this new balance -- wrap up in it and revel in the timing and the perfection of it. It is all as it should be.

Arguments

I love being married. I love that I get to be married to the person that I'm married to. Total spouse jackpot. He makes me a better person. He inspires me to be better. He encourages me. He's so quiet and easy going most of the time that I forget that he's really a Buddha in sporty clothing.

But we argue. Oh yes we do.

Yesterday, as a matter of fact, was the latest one.  And I caught myself with honeymooner shock. You know, that feeling when you're first married and you believe everything is soooooo perfect and you're sooooo in love but then somebody screws up and expectations are dashed and ego gets in the way and suddenly you're plunged into OMG My Marriage Is Jacked panic shock.

I had been humming along in blissful self exploration, feeling so great about my partnership with my man, that when he threw emotional daggers at me I was totally hurt and disoriented and wrote a whole story in my head about how we've been faking it and things aren't safe and how can I possibly trust that we have a strong foundation when the walls are crumbling?!?!  We both were suddenly vulnerable and hurt and disconnected. There was pouting. And some silent treatment. And a little bit of icy artificial conversation.

But then the benefit of 18 years of marriage kicked in. And the kids were zoned in front of a tv show, so we had a few moments to lay bare our offended viewpoints. And we centered in on the fact that we care deeply for each other; that when we feel disrespected it really hurts but that doesn't mean the bridge back isn't still intact. Our bridge has gotten a lot shorter actually. That's taken a ton of work, and growing up (especially on my part), and being willing to be vulnerable and share what we really feel, not just the angry hackles.

So while arguments are exhausting - and temporarily unsettling - the reconnection always seems to make us stronger. Like when a bone fractures and heals itself back up again. Maybe a cliche, but in my relationship it's absolute truth. And I'm so grateful for that.

Vision

http://brookeshaden.com/gallery/?title=paper_wings

Art is fascinating. Believing we have something to say, something to share, that's the way to create a vision, an intention. Staying open to the possibility that I might have something to say, and that it has a right to be created, that's the hard part for me.

I'm a great mimic. Well, to an extent. What I mean is, I can happily copy the idea that some other artist came up with and put my own amateur spin on it. But to come up with my own idea and to believe in it enough to allow it to fully be created? That's what I'm struggling with. What do I want to say? And then, how can I say it?

Where does inspiration come from? Where is my well of insight? I don't have dark thoughts that I am bursting to express. I am generally a happy person, optimistic and pragmatic. Pretty conventional. I tend to be sort of shallow in my thinking. Corporate. Academic. Basic. Boring. (bluuggg!)

If I were to paint about something I LOVE, I might paint flowers -- riotous flowers like Carmelo does. I had so much fun painting my kiddo's portraits, and the faces of my friends. I love painting expressions. I love cooking, but I don't want to paint food. I love gardens, but I don't think I want to paint landscapes...but I've never really tried. Maybe I should try that for a bit?

I love the idea of independence and strength. Powerful softness. Organized chaos. What would that manifest as on a canvas? How do I channel that and create flow -- trust my vision enough to let it flow -- to create something that I'm really proud of.  Something original, of my own making. Something capable of moving people to an emotion.

Step Family

I think this is a topic that I could write a whole book on. Because I feel so many things about it, and experienced a lengthy (this is relative) step-parenting chapter in my life.

And there's a ton of touchy stuff to tiptoe around. Because it's not pretty. And people could get hurt. People who have already had enough hurt. So the telling needs to be done properly, and in a way that delivers the message I want to deliver, which is: Being a step parent is lonely, but you're not alone in feeling that way.

I read book after book. I went into it with what I believed was the right attitude. I tried what I knew to try with the tools that I had. And I sucked. There wasn't a book that made sense of anything. There were tons of "do this do that" and things will be great - all putting a frigging smiley face on something that was awkward and painful and exasperating. Nobody understood. And I was marinating in guilt and self-loathing. And anger.

Blending families can be great. I'm sure of it. I have a lovely bit of evidence in my neighborhood - they are poster-ready blended-family happiness extraordinaire. That wasn't my experience. It almost broke my marriage. It almost broke me. And the kids didn't end up in a great place either.

So I want to write a book that shares my story, and offers perspective that I might have benefited from during that confusing time. Perspective that I might have been able to lean on, giving me strength to try maybe a different tack. Or maybe just breathe. Breathing would have been good.

One thing that I know resonates with some other step moms is the conflicted notion that I both loved and resented my step children at the same time. [Oh the horror! You can't admit that!] But truly, it's tough because on one hand (if you're like me and you didn't believe you could have children of your own) you're so glad for the opportunity to be a "mom" and you love those kids because they're HIS kids, yet at the very same time, you deeply resent them because they are HIS kids and they don't really feel any connection to you. You're always on the inside doing the heavy lifting, yet you're always on the outside looking in. It's exhausting. And if you don't have the right expectations, it can be downright depression-inducing.

Maybe there's a book out there that does a better job today. But I still think sharing my personal story will help somebody. Even if it's just to commiserate a bit so they don't feel so desperately helpless.

Promises Promises

I've made several declarations along this blogway. One of which was to make January a vegan month.

Mister Bloom Quest is none too happy about this. But to his credit, he devoured a couple falafel pitas for dinner tonight and went on about how good they were. Tomorrow he's cooking lamb chops. I'll be making a chickpea curry to go with them. And we'll meet in the middle somewhere.

I tend to be more of a middle ground person, in general. Bandwagons turn me off. And I'm not one to rock the boat in the other direction because, frankly, logic doesn't support the extremes. Take veganism. I believe it's important to shift our typical American diets to be more healthy. Veganism wins on all fronts: better for our bodies, better for our planet. Logic wins there. But am I determined to shift the food system through vegan activism?  Sorry, but nope. I'm not that dedicated. I think reducing consumption of animal products is awesome. And I think every now and again an egg or some meat is okay too. Balance is my motto. And in this case, it takes a whole lot more fruit and vegetable to balance out the animal scale.

That's an interesting thing I've noticed about myself over the years. As emotional as I am, I am definitely swayed by logic. Strongly. And I find that the middle tends to balance the emotional aspects that define the context, with the logical aspects that give an idea traction. I like the middle.

Taking it back to topic (Promises), I declared veganism for a month. And I'm going to do my best to keep to it. Not on principle, but on the challenge that I think I will see a real difference in how my body feels if I can stick to it for a whole month. And I'll learn some cool new recipes and how to use some new ingredients (had to learn today what the heck garam masala is).

Other promises made were around Adventure, Gratitude, Abundance, Writing a Book, Reconnecting, Sketch Journaling, Painting, Scheduled Focus... Man, I'm going to be busy!

Adventure

What if each month this year I make sure a fun (scary?) adventure gets marked into the books?

Doesn't have to be daring or expensive, right?  Could just be something new that takes me someplace - literally or otherwise. What a great Hindsight 20:20 that would make.

This month I'll be skiing Park City, Utah for the first time. For me? Yes, this is Adventure. Some thrill, some bravery (!) and some fun with amazing people I get to call friends. And I might get to ride a snowmobile for the first time ever.  ✔︎ Check!

Paris will be an adventure in March, with my daughter.

What about February? Maybe Old Rag again - that's a great challenge, and my hubs and I are stronger this year than last, so we'll have a great time.

May could be a juried application to McGuffey Art Center....(scary!)

April?  I need to come up with a list, a plan. Schedule classes and trips. Buy train tickets. Make it happen. Italy for Christmas? OMG would that be amazing?! That will take planning.

It's amazing how Adventure needs to be created. It doesn't really just happen on its own. You have to wander off in a new direction. Or plunge. Either way, you have to ACT. I want stories, experiences. So I'm going to create them. And maybe if I keep doing it, I will just get better and better at it.

I love a journey into the unknown (maybe because I have such a great known to come back to afterward).  #blessed

Journey Into Power

90 minutes of power yoga to kick off 2019. Hell YES.

I was a bit afraidy when I saw my name came off the waitlist and I had a spot in the class today. 90 minutes? Make sure you hydrate? Oh yes, I was intimidated. Butterflies were kickin' up on my way to class.

But I did it.

And I didn't cheat, didn't take a break, didn't fall away from any challenge -- in fact, I did my first forearm wheel, EVER.

I don't think I've ever started a brand new calendar year with such strength. In my marriage, in my home with my kids, in my career with a big healthy project, and in myself. I've never felt stronger. More powerful and empowered. I have made such progress this past year, and now I get to build on that. I get to LAUNCH BIGGER. I get to LOVE DEEPER. GIVE MORE. I am on a journey and I love the road. I love the people on the road with me. And I am excited to meet the people and the challenges ahead.

Let's rock this.