There are so many of me.
There is my core, first off.
The person who, without hesitation,
knows she is a mother and wife
nature lover and joy finder
there all the things I am and want to be and want to be good at.
These things are all precious to me,
I don't know what to focus on.
It's like I have all these dreams
and all these things that nourish me
and I don't know which one to pick.
sometimes get tangled.
They wrestle with each other
in my thoughts at night.
They say, Me first! Me now! Me always
and to the exclusion of all others!
But how am I supposed to choose between my dreams?
I have always wanted to be a published story writer
but I also love writing my blog
(and reading the blogs of others who inspire me)
so I often spend the hours
I could be writing my fiction or sending out my work,
here in BlogLand instead.
I have always dreamed of running writers workshops for children
but as I build that dream,
it moves into the time we spend together, our homeschool time,
or the time I could spend writing.
Each dream pushes at the other dreams
and I think at night,
There's not enough time!
the branches of me
tussle with the core of me.
Like, my writing might take me away from sweet, connected time with my husband
or, stressing about balancing all these wants
affects how I
am as a mother.
not realising every one of my dreams
messes with my
finding of joy.
And that is hard.
So what to do?
Do I pick one thing?
Do I focus with all my heart and all my energy
on one dream,
to be sure I realise it and do it well?
I am so drawn to that idea sometimes.
I think of homeschooling and my heart fills.
I think of writing and my heart wants.
I think of working with children and my heart smiles.
I think of focussing on one, and I feel peace
in equal measure.
Because I can't imagine giving up a single one of my dreams.
(especially homeschooling. especially writing.
especially guiding young writers)
do I keep juggling instead?
Because the juggling brings unexpected, deep, happiness.
A blog post might resonate with my true writer, mother, dreamer self.
A child might move me almost to tears in writers workshop.
We might have a day of pure Flow, a day of homeschooling so good I feel like skipping down the street, hollering and whooping, my arms out like wings.
I might send off a story for the first time in years and feel just. so. fine. afterwards.
I might have an interview to be a creative writing teacher
and feel such joy from connecting with like-minded spirits.
Each branch feeds the others,
building on the other
a rustle and tangle
Until my heart smiles and fills and wants
all at once.
finally sleep to the whisper of leaves.