Musings

I’ve had too much on my mind lately to feel like I could write something coherent, and sometimes, if I think about it, it scares me. My clarity of mind is something I value, and so I worry, as I get older, if this is just how it’s gonna be from now on; but then a bit of clarity does shines through, and says, nah, just cool down. It is hard to get older, to get wrinkles, to lose the ability to see in the dark, and to give up the youthfulness that our culture so highly values. I see young moms now, and feel nostalgic, it’s just weird. 

I’m also thinking about all the weird things I’ve believed over the years and wonder where I’d be if I hadn’t had so many limiting beliefs imbedded into my head; like there are certain things that men are supposed to provide for you, like a diamond ring, like a house, like safety. I’ve bought myself a diamond ring, and I ended up giving it to my sister, I’ve bought myself a house and now just feel like it’s kind of hard to keep one up on your own, and safety is something that still too often eludes me. 

I’m thinking that I’ve considered myself a single mom for too long, and fought against what I thought that that meant, instead of just sidestepping the whole issue. I’ve engaged in battles in my head against our culture, against the rules, against the church, and wonder what I’ve won or lost, and it’s probably mostly time and energy. I’ve wrongly believed that you can’t make art and make money, and that love and resources are dynamically opposed to each other. Silly me. 

So, I’m feeding my head new ways of looking at life, and believing that my future will feel safer and happier due to that. In the meantime, old thoughts still weigh me down, and memories of who I once was kinda haunt me. I was not a single mom, I was a mom with all the resources I needed, the evidence of which is always in front me.