I prefer to live deep. I love thinking and pondering, considering and meditating. That deep kind of thinking that allows me to reach down into the roots of myself, into my creative soul, draw deeply from my intuition and come up quenched and real. As a mother, I get very little of that now. I live shallowly, twitching with the constant stimulus and reactions. This is parenting, and sometimes it feels like post traumatic stress disorder. Especially when there’s no good amount of time away or off.
You get used to what you live. One day at a time sometimes means one minute at a time. Crisis and resolution after crisis and resolution. Living in your everyday is surface living. It’s automatic, task-oriented, short-term, keeping everyone alive kinda choice making. And that just is.
But going into creative mode is where I thrive. There you can expand and follow your thoughts out and away. You cultivate your sparks into fires. You connect with your center, your core finding out where you are and where you are going. A spark can suddenly ignite and you know what the next six months will find you doing. This what is called creative flow.
Fits and spurts but don’t give up I tell myself. True, our children are only small for so long and then they leave to go live their lives. It’s feast or famine, expect it. But my soul is roaring, craving the time and depth to dive and seek. Making me feel short and mean sometimes. So I attempt again to cajole my needs out of my life. Harass my husband for some away time with the kids. Say a prayer for my creativity and my children.
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