I never dreamed about getting married, having kids, or owning a house and a car in the suburbs. Yet, somehow, that’s how things ended up for me.
On those hot summer nights, years before I ever experienced the luxury of falling asleep in an air-conditioned room, I imagined all kinds of adventures for myself. I would picture my hand plunging into the earth and digging. Maybe for a huge vegetable plot or maybe digging out ancient buildings to be studied. I saw myself traveling to all the big cities of the world. I imagined rowing across a still body of water and I felt the satisfaction of doing good things for my community. When I thought of a partner, my mind-wanderings consistently brought me to thoughts of someone artistic and full of passions. I wasn’t doing all these things with that partner, but I always envisioned falling asleep in their arms, full of the feeling of satisfaction from a productive and fulfilling life.
This is important for me to say, because I lived a life of not sharing my dreams. I’ve feared letting people in on what I want. I’ve been afraid of being met with ridicule, skepticism and judgement. This made it easier, when my life took a path through a series of tough turns (moving cities and losing my friend-base, the death of my father, living on my own while still in high-school etc.), for me to just switch off the path of what I wanted, and head down a path that seemed much more clear and defined.
I got married. I had two children. I lived away from community and connection. I tried to move my current path closer to my wanted path. It was such hard work. Often, getting the two paths closer together for some time would cause them to wildly diverge for far longer than the initial attempt held. It seemed pointless to even try, after a certain amount of effort had been wasted.
What seemed like a clear and defined path had slowly changed shape and topography. It got to be too different from the path I had wanted all those years ago, and still, under it all, yearned to walk down. Since it was so far from what my soul knew, it became impossible for me to navigate. I tried to look for the path I wanted and I thought it was just at the bottom of a gully off the side of the path. I’m still not sure if I jumped off, or if I was pushed. It’s probably a mixture of both.
The path I’m on now is not leading me to the exact situations I dreamed about, it leads me through the same experiences though. I have two small people that I’m raising and I have strong and clear ideas of the wonderful people I would like them to be. I’m constantly thinking about what I need to teach them so they can be caring to others and do good things for their communities. I now live a life where I can take on any adventure I choose and am supported and cared for and encouraged. I have community that feeds me knowledge and experience and creativity and skill. The more I take in, the more I can share with my children. So, not only do I get to do whatever good I can, as one person, but I can sew the seeds of good in my children and help them grow into greater forces of good than I.
I feel very satisfied in knowing that even though I strayed from the path I should have been on, I picked up a couple of good things on my detour, and they can benefit from these experiences I’m now having.
On this day:
Bobby is all about the poop lately. Obviously it’s a hilarious topic and I do nothing to discourage it. Why do I need to harp on that kind of stuff? What’s the point? None. If we are going to dine with royalty then I’ll talk to him about it.
Bobby is very fashion forward. He realy likes putting together outfits and starting new trends. Double popped collars are no-good but shades… SHADES are where it’s at.
Sometimes it’s very important to be a superhero all day long. But it’s tiring.
Bobby and Molly have continued to get along most of the time. There are starting to be sharing based issues but I think we are doing a good job of mitigating them and teaching patience and all that jazz. But they just love each other and snuggle and stuff. OMG adorable.
Bobby recently discovered this. Also not doing anything to stop it. I remember not being allowed to do this as a kid. But why? The worst that can happen is it spills. So what?
And this just creeps me right out.
On this day:
In 2011 – Bobby – not so different than now
In 2010 – more Bobby again
In 2009 – Bobby again, what a surprise!
In 2008 – My crusade against junk mail
In 2006 – The story of when one guy chased another guy with a meat cleaver outside my high school
In 2005 – tattoo excitement
I don’t ever remember having taken a bath with one of my parents so I can only assume my father was nonchalantly taking a bath when I came into the room. Although I remember my mother being right behind me. Maybe she thought it would be funny, or maybe she was trying to stop me but didn’t make it in time. Maybe I was supposed to be taking my first bath with my father at age 5? Regardless, it was terrifying.
As far as I recall, I had never before seen a penis although I knew they were part of the difference between boys and girls.
There is was, just kind of… bobbing around… in the water… I remember being taken aback and asking what it was. My mother said “It’s just his bug.”
Oh how INFINITELY worse that made it! Didn’t she know that BUGS were the worst thing in the world? AND THERE WAS ONE ATTACHED TO MY FATHER’S CROTCH!!! I’m sure this was the beginning of the end of idealizing my father.
When did you start to realize your parent’s weren’t perfect/infallible/made of rainbows?
On this day: