What if you?
This is one of my favorite photos. It’s not well composed. It certainly wouldn’t capture most people’s attention. It’s just Catie and ‘Ren curled up on the coach, watching Firefly — which was proving to be slightly too scary for Cate. Remnants of a lazy day litter the coffee table — candy wrappers and video game controllers. ‘Ren’s in his sweats. Cate hasn’t brushed her hair.
It’s perfect.
Right now, we are balancing on the cusp of transition once again. Where will we move when our term is up here? What supports Paul’s career? What’s best for the girls? Where can I survive?
A month ago I felt firmly convicted about where I wanted to go next. The month before that the conviction was for somewhere else. Now I just feel…I was going to say “lost,” but really it’s more like “afraid.”
These years in Denmark, thought not my favorite, have in fact been a great adventure. I like adventure. I’ve learned the most amazing things about myself, and my family, and my work. And as much as I love this cozy scene above, I wonder, if we go “back” will it still be there? And even if it is…will it be enough?
If we move back to the States how will we avoid the siren call of commercialism? That irresistable urge to own a car, to shop at Target, to spend all our travel money remodeling our worn out bathroom? What will I do with without a stray soul to raise? Souren after all, is technically an adult now, and the girls need me less every day. And as much as people loved and miss Monkfish Abbey, I don’t know if I want to rebuild a community like the one I once nurtured in our enormous house. What will happen to my adventure? What will I do with my time?
Or it will it be the opposite? Will the demands of school volunteering, and soccer practice, and knowing dozens of people within close proximity fill my days until there is no place left to write?
See, I only seem wise. Most of the time I flutter. Like now. Torn between adventure and security; travel and home; prompting my children to be brave, and just making sure they have friends.
Flibbertigibbet. That’s me. At least for today. At least for right now. I may as well embrace it.
Josh… play us out.
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November 6th, 2009 at 1:53 pm
‘torn between adventure and security’
been there…today i was thinking that perhaps we shouldn’t focus so much on putting a label on things. We can create security in adventure and adventure in security. We don’t have the choose. We only think we need to.
xo
November 6th, 2009 at 3:22 pm
It sounds like your current brand of adventure is the unknown looming just ahead. It’s certainly a scary and head-spinning stage, but one day it will be a story. That thought gets me through a lot of terrifying decisions.
November 6th, 2009 at 4:26 pm
Thanks for sharing. It encouraged me to hear that I’m not the only one who struggles to feel certainty or clarity about what her life should look like.
November 6th, 2009 at 6:55 pm
You sound you are at that stage where you know that something is going to change, but you don’t know yet in which way… weighing up all possibilities usually leaves me totally exhausted… So don’t, embrace whatever comes your way… all will be good!
November 6th, 2009 at 7:01 pm
My kids are tweens. They need me less physically (they can bathe, dress, get their own snacks), but they need me more emotionally. I’m enjoying this time with them because I’m watching their “personhood” take form. (They also have more homework and occasionally need me to help them organize everything they have to do — particularly my oldest, who has MORE to do and also has an LD.)
Their divergent schedules (one starts school at 7:30; the other 9:15) and my two volunteer gigs cut into my free time during the day. At night, I can generally forget about writing, because someone needs something.
That aggravates me sometimes, but next year my daughter advances to middle school, which will mean even less free evening time. However, I drop off the elementary PTA board (hallelujah) and I’ll have more free daytime (unless I end up going back to work PT). The key is not to overschedule yourself with volunteer work. Those half-hours here and there really add up!
Finally, I constantly struggle with clarity. I think most of us do.
November 6th, 2009 at 8:27 pm
We had a similar choice when we moved back to the US from our three years of ex-pat time in Australia. There is a freedom that comes from not having deep ties somewhere. There I said it. We continued the adventure in a different region of the US than what we knew before. Now we are moving again, and I have finally admitted to myself that I have wanderlust and I love to move. I hope you find that intersection where all your families needs and dreams can converge.
November 6th, 2009 at 9:05 pm
I don’t know how it will all work out. I am in a similar transition, a cusp into the unknown.
I think that is where the adventure lives.
November 6th, 2009 at 11:10 pm
I am certain no matter where you end up you will find time to write. Uncertainty, not knowing is very very hard. I’ll send you a little light…
November 7th, 2009 at 1:40 am
Where can all of you thrive the most? No place is perfect, especially when considering the needs and desires of more than one person. But what if you draw each of your ideal “circles of space” and see where or how they intersect. Maybe that will reveal some clues. Either way, blessings to you and yours as you navigate the unknown. We’re all navigating the unknown every day, but it feels bigger and scarier when we come into the wide open spaces of major life changes and multiple possibilities. None of us are wise. All of us are wise. There are so many of us standing in this field, looking around for the next path of the next leg of the journey. It’s good to remember that we’re not alone, whether we’re shopping at Target or learning a new language.
November 7th, 2009 at 11:46 am
Go with the flow and enjoy the ride. Life will take you wherever you need to be next and, wherever it is, it will be another magical, inspiring step on your journey through life. Easier said than done, believe me, I know! But very much how I am trying to approach life nowadays, especially when I feel the way you have described here.
November 7th, 2009 at 8:20 pm
I understand how hard a transition can be. Transitioning to a new job…transitioning from healthy to living with a chronic illness…transitioning from single to married…this year is all about transitions to me. I understand the risks involved, the soul-searching, the growing pains and happy tears. I hope you know that my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Wherever you end up, there you are, right? And you are wonderful!
November 8th, 2009 at 5:12 am
I moved 11 times before the age of 22, and while I wasn’t the same age and didn’t face the same life situations as you do, I can identify with your fears. The answers vary in specifics, but generally I think you can only go back to a place and love your memories. Places change without you, which is why it’s so important to build new things in your new place, wherever you go. Wherever you go, it will be yours whether you like it or not.
And your kids will not need you for the same reasons as they grow up, but they will always need you (though they may try to trick you into believing otherwise when they become snotty teenagers).
I’ll keep you in my thoughts and prayers as you deal with all those unpleasant transitiony things.
November 11th, 2009 at 3:18 am
have I mentioned that we here are dreaming of a move to Seattle? I know I know. With or without the move, I feel also like whatever our lives will look like is just beyond the curve. I cannot get a glimpse of it no matter how hard I crane my neck.