I am not Wonder Woman.
During the summer, when I am sleeping enough and eating well and have much different kind of time, it becomes easy for me to believe that I can do all the things I need and want to do. It feels so possible.
And then I slam into the reality of September, with its 17+ hour-days–each hour filled with work, parenting, and housekeeping.
This week I came undone when I came home to dog mess. It wasn’t the mess, it was that once again my efforts to get some exercise were thwarted. Instead of going for the walk I’d planned, I was cleaning up someone else’s shit. Literally.
And it wasn’t even really that. It was the realization that these days in which I cannot attend to anything but other beings–all day and night long–are the rule, not the exception. It was seeing that the extra day off each week (thank you, crappy economy) is not an 8 hours I am going to be able to use for a whole bunch of new creative projects. It’s 8 hours I am going to use toward maintaining my health (which is generally in a sorry state by the time I get to that Friday off).
My purpose here is not to whine. (But yes, I know I am a bit.) I know that everyone gets the same 24 hours, and we all have to make choices about how we use them. I could make different choices. But I choose not to. I choose to mother the way I do. I choose to work the way I do. I choose to have a romantic relationship. I choose all the things I have in my life. (Yeah, I didn’t necessarily know what I was getting into when I made some of the choices, and no, some of them could not be easily undone. But I’d choose them again. All of them.)
The simple truth is: I cannot do all the things I want to do. Probably no one can. While this blog is one of the things I want to do, I can’t do it and some other things I want to do more. At least right now. I’ve been dropping hints about another blog that’s been in the works since last spring. I want to launch it more than I want to keep writing posts here.
A gratitude practice is essential to my well-being. Blogging might be, too. Writing posts here is good for me because the act of polishing the writing for others forces me to dig deeper into my thinking that I otherwise would. Connecting with those of you who write back to me is also essential to my well-being. Because my life is so full, it is hard to connect face-to-face, and my electronic connections mean a great deal to me. When I took a break earlier this year, I really missed you.
But I have to make a choice. One great thing about getting older and having some experience behind me is knowing that choices can always be changed. (What a revelation it was to learn that. Thank you, Sharon.) Today, I am choosing to suspend my writing here so that I can write something else. I need to give the new blog some focused, dedicated attention or it will never be born. I’m hoping that those of you who read this blog will follow me to that one. It will contain much of what this one does, plus more.
So, this is not good-bye. It is see you later. I’ll miss you while I’m gone.