I read these words attributed to the author Reynolds Price, when he was in his thirties; "This is it. I'm now the person I'm likely to be...from here to the end."
"Wow", I thought, "Could that even be true?" For most of us, so much changes over the next 40 to 50 decades. For some, including Price, devastating events change our lives in dramatic, unforseen ways. There could be great joys, or opportunities that open up an entire new world. For many of the young adults in this CNY town, at 30, they have done almost nothing other than attending school. Life, real life, has hardly made a mark on them yet.
See the girl in the picture? She is a young farm woman with two preschool daughters, two teenage stepsons, a husband, a barn full of cows, and an off farm job. This relaxed moment is at Vacation Bible School, which she teaches while on vacation from her off farm job. What you can't see in the picture is our two girls dressed as honey bees. The VBS offering is going to Heiffer Project to buy hives of bees for needy families.
What I remember clearly from these times is how, about Wednesday, I would volunteer for all kinds of things, not realizing that my energetic feelings were the result of several full nights of sleep in a row. By Friday I would be having panic attacks at the idea of returning to my 3am job. In February of this year, overwhelmed with physical work, and lack of sleep, it was all I could do to NOT commit suicide.
At this point in my life I am a young mom, active in my church, working with neighborhood children, and helping to instill the idea that it is a good thing to help those less fortunate than ourselves. I cannot give my church much in the way of money, but I can share time and talent. I am becoming friends with other members of my community, and a leader in my church.
I am strong. I throw bales of hay (though not well), pitch manure, dig post holes and string fence-lines. I can carry a calf from the far end of the pasture to the barn.
I have given up things I love. My horse, a companion for half my life, has been given away because I don't have time to ride.
I feel inadequate. I am plagued with guilt because I don't do enough. I get up at 3 am to go to work. When I get home at 930 I have breakfast and go to the barn. Chores will keep me busy until 9 at night. I struggle to keep a house in order, and to provide my girls with appropriate activities. I help my parents. I cook meals from scratch, and I constantly feel like I do not do enough. Work and chores are just what you are supposed to do - the bare minimums. I should be sewing our clothes, baking cookies, remodeling the house (actually I am remodeling our fixer/upper house) , growing a garden and canning. There are not enough hours in the day, and not enough of me to go around.
And yet, there is more and more of me every year. I steal myself with coffee and sugar in order to make it through the next set of tasks, to continue without sleep. My self medication is packing on the pounds which eat away at my self-worth, as they also make it harder for me to complete my tasks. (isn't that an odd turn of words -packing on pounds which eat away at me? curiouser and curiouser)
Is this a woman's disease / dis - ease / un - ease ? and where does it come from? Is it part and parcel of devaluing women and what they do, that is still prevalent in society all the years down the road from the feminist movement of my youth?
Does it affect young women to the same amount that it did me? I know several young professional women who are seemingly content to live in the squalor that in the past was associated with batchelors. Young men who, come to think of it, we said, needed a woman in their life. Why? If men can run a business, can't they clean up their own damn sh*t?
Perhaps, to feel accomplished, I need to work on the focus. Maybe that old adage: Monday washing, Tuesday ironing etc, would work well for me. I do have a day that I usually haul to the laundromat. It gets that task, and the accompanying backache out of the way on a day when I don't also have to stand all day at work, and I do feel better when I take the time to do a quick once over and get the dishes out of the way. I could schedule in my projects - that way - I'm not goofing off, I'm accomplishing a task I have set for myself. Like writing. Writers set time aside for the chore of research and writing, because otherwise it gets lost in the shuffle.
"Wow", I thought, "Could that even be true?" For most of us, so much changes over the next 40 to 50 decades. For some, including Price, devastating events change our lives in dramatic, unforseen ways. There could be great joys, or opportunities that open up an entire new world. For many of the young adults in this CNY town, at 30, they have done almost nothing other than attending school. Life, real life, has hardly made a mark on them yet.
So I began to wonder. Who was I at 30, and where am I now 3 decades later?
What I remember clearly from these times is how, about Wednesday, I would volunteer for all kinds of things, not realizing that my energetic feelings were the result of several full nights of sleep in a row. By Friday I would be having panic attacks at the idea of returning to my 3am job. In February of this year, overwhelmed with physical work, and lack of sleep, it was all I could do to NOT commit suicide.
At this point in my life I am a young mom, active in my church, working with neighborhood children, and helping to instill the idea that it is a good thing to help those less fortunate than ourselves. I cannot give my church much in the way of money, but I can share time and talent. I am becoming friends with other members of my community, and a leader in my church.
I am strong. I throw bales of hay (though not well), pitch manure, dig post holes and string fence-lines. I can carry a calf from the far end of the pasture to the barn.
I have given up things I love. My horse, a companion for half my life, has been given away because I don't have time to ride.
I feel inadequate. I am plagued with guilt because I don't do enough. I get up at 3 am to go to work. When I get home at 930 I have breakfast and go to the barn. Chores will keep me busy until 9 at night. I struggle to keep a house in order, and to provide my girls with appropriate activities. I help my parents. I cook meals from scratch, and I constantly feel like I do not do enough. Work and chores are just what you are supposed to do - the bare minimums. I should be sewing our clothes, baking cookies, remodeling the house (actually I am remodeling our fixer/upper house) , growing a garden and canning. There are not enough hours in the day, and not enough of me to go around.
And yet, there is more and more of me every year. I steal myself with coffee and sugar in order to make it through the next set of tasks, to continue without sleep. My self medication is packing on the pounds which eat away at my self-worth, as they also make it harder for me to complete my tasks. (isn't that an odd turn of words -packing on pounds which eat away at me? curiouser and curiouser)
Is this a woman's disease / dis - ease / un - ease ? and where does it come from? Is it part and parcel of devaluing women and what they do, that is still prevalent in society all the years down the road from the feminist movement of my youth?
Does it affect young women to the same amount that it did me? I know several young professional women who are seemingly content to live in the squalor that in the past was associated with batchelors. Young men who, come to think of it, we said, needed a woman in their life. Why? If men can run a business, can't they clean up their own damn sh*t?
But I digress from my goal of finding out who I was and who I am.
I was, and am, a multi-talented, intelligent, creative woman,
who struggles with focus.
I will acknowledge that I am a strong, creative, intelligent, capable
- disorganized - woman.
I will rejoice in my positives and
work on the "problem" that is holding me back,
while also recognizing that:
my tolerance for chaos helps me to be flexible in ways that some folks can't.
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