When I lived in the city, my world was Big. I had anywhere and anything I wanted right there for the taking. Art galleries and fabulous food, stores galore, parks, and music venues all at my whimsical disposal. Then I moved here to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, the Land of Pleasant Living, and a small world existence.
‘Here’ is a little mini-town in the middle of hay and cornfields on the way to the beach. The restaurants are minimal and seem to close up with regularity. Except, of course, the McDonald’s on the bi-pass. Beach traffic needs to be fed and this is the only Playplace around. And I’ve seen them clean it out so it’s a passable alternative to trapped at home with hyper kids.
Art galleries and shopping are here and can be enjoyed if you are ready to drive the distance to reach them. These are not the reasons to move here. You move here because your kids are safe and you can afford the houses. My story on this here.
My real world is even smaller. Always has been I suppose. That’s the world that I live within inside my head and my house. I’m confined by the chaos constantly whirling in my brain throughout the day which begs to be set free on paper. And I’m limited somewhat to spending much of my time inside my house as I have a pre-toddler and no outside job.Nap-time is sacred.
So here I am inside my home everyday with baby Fiona. The solitary confinement was lifted this week slightly with two mornings of childcare. I am sure I need to make this time count and torn between spending it dumping stuff out of my head and organizing that, or updating the interior of the house/prison I’m confined to. Simultaneously, my busy creative brain is always thinking up more things I’d like to do. Bills, writing, and a pedicure all call my name on the ever-growing to-do list.
I calculated I spend only 25 percent of my waking hours alone. And I am probably not spending it doing anything more productive than having a seat or social mediating. If that’s how I escape the confines of my life occasionally, then so be it.
My world is extremely small and limited and yet, I think there’s much that can be done with the life in a container garden. The trick is perspective and planning. Neither of which I’ve ever been very good at but there’s never any better time than right now.
I need to learn to be OK with wherever I am and find the ways to make it through with the time and space and money I have. Because this too shall pass and suddenly my small world will expand into the empty spaces where the littlest plants will have been re-potted into their own pots. Perspective is an ever precious commodity.
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Beautifully written post Shalagh, photos too. We’re in the same boat at the moment, you and I. It’s tough x o x
Ah that I have your ear for a moment at midnight makes me happy Jane.Our Skype silliness will always remind me what time it is in our respective worlds. I hold tightly the thought of our boats floating side by side. My little only slightly behind your little. Shaylyn way out ahead of Eamon but not for long. Thank you deary. Enjoy your weekend.
Love,
Shalagh
Perspective is a precious commodity.
Your world is still bigger than mine, I say. (I may be over 90% alone each day; if only I could Skype, etc.)
Hope for the best,
Adam
Thought of you the other day. You may want to get out more. If only you could Skype.
Best back atcha,
Shalagh