Ernest Hemingway
Well, thank God! I was beginning to worry. I have been skipping days, I know. I don't need to be reminded. There is a lack of inspiration that I can't seem to get past. The usual joy I feel at finding a quote that speaks to me has been lost. Or maybe it's just been hiding. Wherever it is, it's certainly not here.
There is always so much joy when I have something to say. I am at peace when there are words spilling out of me. It is the only time I feel I am myself. Most days I am a mother and a wife and a friend. I do not act like those things, I am those things. They constantly take up my thoughts. I have cleaning and cooking and homework and volunteering and sports. There is always something bigger than my writing occupying my time. I know it's all my fault, I asked for this. I chose to be a mom and stay home with the kids, knowing it would be difficult. But that doesn't mean I can't complain. As a mom, the one thing you want more than anything is for your kid's first word to be "Mama." And then, you wish they had never learned it. The incessant repetition of the word seeps all joy from it. And when there are three of them yelling it at the same time...
Ok, enough complaining. The point of all of this is that we are fed this idea that becoming a wife and a mother and a friend will bring you constant joy. The truth is, it brings joy, but it's not constant. Life is never constantly one thing in particular. Trust me, I am happy to be surrounded by the people I love. Sometimes I wish it were limited to them and did not also include those who love me. You do realize the lists sometimes differ. And then there are moments when I wish I could be alone, surrounded by nothing but the sound of the sea. To open my eyes and see the ocean meeting the sky and no one I know around me is a dream. Occasionally, dreams come true. And lately I have been having some doozies. But the idea remains, it would bring insurmountable joy to have prolonged moments of peace, moments of joy brought on by writing. And perhaps the fact that I am not always joyful proves that I am more intelligent than I thought. A girl can dream, can't she?
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