On Things Like Ruthless Honesty and Growth

Right now I am sitting in my studio listening to Air on the Virgin Suicides Original Score. It is really good. I liked the movie too. It is one of those "weird" ones by most people's standards. But I usually don't like what most people like. I like it best when things are not all nice and neat and spelled out for you but where you kind of have to take in more than usual and kind of mull it over before you know if you like it or not. I like it when you can sort of have a personal relationship with a film. It is like a piece of art that way, ya know?

My brother and his wife are going to have a baby. He is so happy and emotional about it. I truly love seeing him like this. These moments are the moments one should be mindful of as they will be recalled time and time again and happen so few times in our lives. It's big...I mean BIG! Life is never the same after kids. You keep expecting it to be until you are finally one day on an iceburg with your new life all packed and ready to go blowing kisses to your old life on the snowy banks as you go off into the unknown. Yet, I am very happy for him.

Part of me is very excited about a part of our lives getting more similar. I hope it brings a new closeness to our relationship. My brother is seven years younger and I have been waiting a long time for him to catch up so to speak.

Part of me is overjoyed to see him so joyful. He is giddy and it is always adorable to see a man giddy. It is heartwarming, really. My brother has a huge capacity to love.

Part of me is happy at the prospect of growth for him in all areas of his life that will also mean our life circumstances will be more similar. Our schedules for one will be more similar which will make it easier to spend more time together.

Part of me is sad for him because I feel that he has not yet discovered some things about his talents as a writer and he needs to go back to school and keep educating himself to realize his dreams. Nothing is more sad than unrequitted love or lost dreams. I can see that this is probably not going to happen now. I can see him wanting to push writing aside. I can see his wife expecting it of him. Willingly he'll open himself, his whole self to this new experience until he gets lost in it. I can see where he can't and I couldn't before him.

Part of me is scared shitless for him. It is no walk in the park. There are all these things that you just have to figure out on your own and no one tells you!

I want to help him. I want to save him from it. I want to tell him so many things. I want to make it easier for him than it has been for me. Society sets us up to kind of see our roles a certain way - you know? We are 'good' if we do things that fit within the framework of the role laid out for us...be it Mother or Father. It is far too easy to lose our true selves in this venture...to cash in for what seems like the sure thing and put all our other dreams aside. Yet, you come out feeling like you do when you fall prey to a smooth talking salesman with impeccable teeth. Like, when your heart tells you something doesn't add up but you keep looking at how beautiful the car is and you just want it because you want it. Then you break down at some point and it all comes together. You realize...this is forever.

My brother asked me how long did it take to come to terms with it after I found out I was pregnant. He was a bundle of emotions and jittery. He asked me this when he had only known of his wife's pregnancy for a matter of days. I told him, eight years.

Reflecting back on this, it is true. I am settling in now after eight years. I, finally, have learned to merge all the parts of my being into one. It has taken eight years for me to realize that I can be a good mother, an artist, a writer, an educator, sexy, sexual, healthy, spiritual, adult, consistent, loving, fun, playful, responsible, friend, active community member, cook, housekeeper, flexible, supportive, giving, brave, creative, joyous, happy, nurse, caretaker, wife, lover all at the same time! Yes, one takes away from the other at times but in creating balance it is what is necessary. I no longer feel guilty when I fail at one thing only to succeed at another. That guilt has at times been the weight of the cinderblock tied to a dog. It has been wasted energy and wasted time. It has kept me from fully enjoying myself, my husband and my children. The whole me is important to my family. Motherhood is only one part. It is big! It got in the way of my being able to see things about myself and my partner for a long time. I am thankful that we are where we are now. I love my life and adore my children and all that they bring to it. But, I can honestly say all this now because I love myself.

I am now able to look at my deepest, darkest, recesses and ask myself with ruthless honestly - do I wish my life were different? Do I wish I had no kids? Do I wish I could go back and erase it all? I couldn't go there for many years because deep down inside, I was afraid of my own answer. More than that, I was afraid that my answer would provide proof to the world that something was terribly wrong with me and that I was a horrible, mentally deranged person who deserved to be sent straight to hell. Afterall, I had healthy children. I had a loving, devoted husband. I had a house. We were not struggling for money. What on Earth did I have to be unhappy about? My family was of little support because by their comparisons, I was Cinder fuckin' rella. As long as your husband is not beating you, molesting your children and keeps a regular job, he is one "tall, cool drink of water." He is walking true love. For years I thought God would see me as ungrateful and that I would be punished somehow. This translated into trying to be a perfect mother. I wanted to do everything right. Afterall, I wanted to prove to God, to everyone else, to myself that I loved my children.

It wasn't until I really began to look inward, I mean like when you are combing through your kids' hair searching for nits with that fine tooth comb they give you when you by that shampoo. I had a lot of sorting to do. I had to be thorough. I had to decide what was my "stuff" and what was everyone else's. I had to decide what was worth keeping in this brain of mine and what could be thrown out. Turning a blind eye to nothing, I became my own person and got down to myself again - my true nature. Opening myself to my own love and compassion has allowed me to truly appreciate my life and my children and my spouse and all that we do together and for one another. I am lucky to have this rediscovery. I am fortunate to have a husband who has held my hand, laughed and cried with me and cheered me on. I suppose it could take many years longer if you don't have good, positive support in your life or if you aren't strong enough to ever face some of the ugly work we all need to face inside ourselves.

So all this is stuff I'd like to say. I picture my brother kind of half paying attention but mostly thinking somewhere in his mind about how fucked up all that is and how his life will be different. How fucked up women are and wondering if his mother felt that way about him. I think he would kind of feel sorry for me in a way and how messed up our childhood was. I think he would sort of smile and nod and not be able to hear anything other than his own heartbeat as it pierces his ears with his own excitement. I think he would only hear parts of the story and react to them by shutting down parts of himself. He has to. He has to so that he can prepare for his own experience. He has to, as we all do so that we can grow. It is his turn now and to save him from it in any way would be an injustice to his spirit and an assault on his growth.

Namaste, seedling. Grow. Not growth in spite of or against...but grow with. Grow alongside everything else in the world that must change all around you everyday every minute every second. Grow knowing that nothing stays the same no matter how much you wish it would and the only thing to do is change with it. I promise, I'll be changing right alongside you, Brother.