Where does my time go?
We’ve been home for a couple of days and I have not yet had time to sit down and write. My Superstar Husband is home! More beautiful than ever. I’m so happy to have him back.
Over at Parent Bloggers, they’re giving away a free ticket to Blogher, along with a new site called Light Iris. Basically they’ll choose someone at random from all the people who write a post mulling over the question “Where does my time go?” And that’s something I think about a lot. And I like to write. And I would love to be able to go to Blogher, especially since this year’s theme is A World of Difference, and I’ve been thinking a lot about our world community and how to make a difference through writing.
Even as I sit here and write this, I can hear my kids singing to themselves in their bedroom, and I know my writing time is ticking to an end. They will want to get up soon. They will need food, like they always do, the demanding little creatures, and I will sigh and get up and put away my computer and say, cheerily, “What should we have for breakfast today?” And I will dive into a whole other side of myself, the mother part, the one who has eyes everywhere all at once, who speaks kindly and cuts toast up into squares, or fingers, or triangles to make breakfast more fun.
I can’t say how many times since I’ve become a mother (and especially a mother of THREE) that I’ve wondered how I could get more time in my day. Why, oh why do I only have twenty-four hours? And this aggravating need for sleep? It just doesn’t seem possible to take care of three children, keep my part-time job, manage a home, write my novel, paint, and spend time with my husband. And I don’t only want to do these things, I want to do them with creativity, with intentionality, with GUSTO.
See what I’m setting myself up for here? Because, of course, the answer is that there ISN’T enough time in a day to do all of these things. Some things need to be laid down gently, smoothed and put away in a drawer, to be taken out at a later date. I have needed to take a few steps back from things I love very dearly, for the sake of everyone around me.
And then there’s the quality of time. I wish I could put my time into little boxes, iron it out and box it up and set it out in front of me, little boxes, all in a row. That’s what time used to be like for me. I did one thing until I was ready to go onto the next. And as an artist, that often meant painting for hours, maybe all day long. ALL DAY LONG. I honestly can’t remember doing anything at all for a full day in the last few years. Now my time is like a tangled pile of yarn, each strand interconnecting with another, and I’m changing a diaper while I talk on the phone, I’m reading a book to my kids while I cook breakfast, my conversations with my beloved Superstar Husband are interspersed with “YaYa, you may not sit on his HEAD!” I’m sure you know this phenomenom well.
And for a visionary type like myself, who likes to do something in order to make a mark on the world every day, it can be discouraging to get to the end of a chain of linked hours and look around in the evening light, realizing that everything I’ve accomplished in this day will be undone and redone in the next. I will wash the same clothes, I will wipe those same adorable faces, I will pick up the same toys. Some days, I look around and all I can say is, “Well, we had fun.”
And it’s like my friend, veteran mother of ten, told me once about this mothering vocation: “We’re on holy ground.” So time actually slinks into the background. I realize that life is not about a neat line of hours, about wrinkle free minutes. We have only a short time with our small children, when, more than anything, our life becomes servanthood. The question for me is how will I give my time? Is it with gritted teeth, looking at the clock, resenting every moment? Or do I toss it in the air and watch it rain down around me, and slosh a big bucket of my time on the garden of my family? Do I lift my face and soak in the light as I wash dishes? Breathe in the scent of clean clothes as I take them off the line? Do I take my beautiful kids and run off to the river for the afternoon?
I’ve talked here before about calling chores meditations. It is not easy for me. I often look longingly at my new book while I’m sweeping the ever-present pine needles off of my floor. But time is to be given, to be invested in what is important, and time is sunny, and time is sweet. Time if we allow it will transform us into a version of us with more wisdom, more patience, better manners, more generosity. I need time to be a friend to me, rather than an enemy to wrestle.
12 comments
[...] Journey Mama [...]
oh, i do understand what you mean… and i don’t even have children yet! i want to have children sometime in the next year or so, and i find myself going through these crazy stages of thinking of how fun it will be and being scared and thinking i’m crazy. well, maybe i am a little crazy. but, strangely, i think it’s the crazy part of me that somehow keeps me a bit sane! i guess one of the things i’m going to have to learn better is the laying down you speak of… laying down some things and prioritising others. thank you for sharing. in a subject that seems to produce stress, you made me smile and relax and breathe a litte more freely.
This was so good for me. It is so important to enjoy everyday we have with these sweet kids.
How will I give my time? That’s a great question–a wonderful meditation. I have 2 little girls, a full-time job, and interests in writing. I gave up painting. I can sneak in writing fairly easily, while hauling out the oil-paints and cleaning takes too much effort. But the need to express myself creatively is still there. I struggle with that daily. But your question reminds me that my outlook on life is partly a matter of choice. Now that I have children, I realize how incredibly valuable our time is…and how short life is. It sometimes causes me great anxiety. But I must remember to step back a little and ask those important questions to ground myself. Thanks and take care.
Love, love, love this Rae. And I love that quote, “We’re on holy ground.” Gosh I forget that so often…..
You have been given another gift and that is the gift of wisdom, because you have so much already and you realize so many truths. I love your last sentence about what how to approach time – and it’s not just about getting everything done, but about savoring the moments, and you’re learning that. It’s hard though when you see all that has to be done, to just chill and realize tomorrow is soon enough.
Miss you….
I feel your words,
with two young girls, a partner, community, and of course my place of work, I often feel as though I am emersed in an endless service and selfless realm….
I am constantly faced with superceding passions,
So many passions and wonderous things to share, see and do within this sacred existence or lifetime,
I like how meditation can take the focus off of the mundane messures of time and turn moments into blissful states of living….
You are an amazing light and inspiration, I am thankful to share your thoughts!~
Warmly, Melissa/menaka
I just clicked on your blog link from ‘notes from the trenches’ and was greeted with this beautiful, beautiful post. I loved it!! Thanks for sharing
It’s words of wisdom like this that inspire me every day. Thank you!
Chandra
mmm…i love the question of how you will give the time required to do mothering, ‘with gritted teeth’, that phrase can be so true. and the choice to breathe deeply and plunge ones’ hands back into the soapy water and wash that bottle one more time, oh yeah, and do it with love…a choice, your words resonate, rae. and i know you see those little ones and they shine for you because you sound like a wonderful mama. smiles
love this rae — the penultimate paragraph is one of the most beautiful things i’ve read. i hope you get to go!
My first reply…does this make me an author? I have spent a lovely evening reading your past posts. Thank you! Just a comment that you already know,but,,, Time is more than an investment to be placed. It is a gift to be thankfully received and joyously unwrapped. As you wish for time to be a friend to you; remember to take time to be a friend to yourself. I think these admonitions were meant for me more than you, thanks for being a willing sounding board! mark
I was once encouraged to “think eternally” when it came to my children (a 2.5 yr old and a 1.5 yr old!) And it’s a struggle when they’re this young to stop in the middle of the chaos and simply enjoy many of their traits. I’ve struggled with the knowledge that, especially at this time in THEIR lives, much of my time simply doesn’t belong to me. For a season, my life is theirs. And it’s my husband’s. Not to say that we don’t need some individual recharging now and then. In “My Utmost for His Highest” Oswald Chambers encourages one to give up the right to oneself (the June 13th entry). I’m not (and he’s not)talking about being some sort of martyr for motherhood! It’s all worth thinking about….I once heard a (very) elderly, country fellow give a talk. He prefaced it all by saying (in a very deep, gravelly voice that knew cigarettes intimately), “Ah ain’t no deep thinker, but ah do some ponderin.’ ” So, do some ponderin’ about what’s really your main desire for the use of the time you’ve been given
I do hope you find space for your creative outlets! Take care.
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