I’m noticing a change inside of myself. Well, it’s hard not to notice, really, when change comes barrelling out like a hurricane where one expected there to be a cool breeze (sorry honey…heh).
The problem is that I believed the lie that was told about growing up. I really thought that one day, I’d be an adult, and that would be it. I’d be that same, one person, my whole life.
It turns out, there are many chapters of a woman.
I know now that we change forms, many times over, to suit our circumstances, to find something that’s missing, to become the person we need to be at the time, to align with our calling. It’s no use, clinging to old ideas, values we thought we would worship ’til the end of time. Living in fear of anything, steals away the light.
Most importantly, we must forgive ourselves for not knowing then what we know now.
I’ve realized my vision for my role as a mother has changed. I’m constantly taking in new information, processing uncomfortable feelings, learning and growing, and in the same ways that I am changing, so is our family. I’m no longer actively raising four children, but actually three much younger kids since our eldest moved out. In a way, I trust myself more, now that I’m this far in, and I have less to prove.
I feel more comfortable narrowing my focus. It turns out, this time in my life is not for homesteading. Sure I’ll tend to my herbs and grow a kitchen garden, but that’s about it for now. In fact, I’m not sure I plan to labour over a hot stove come fall, canning and preserving. I might just pack it into the freezer and carry on…..because my kids are taking in new information everyday, learning and growing, and I want to be with them, not just in the same house, on the same property.
I only want to find moments of connection. I want to chase their dreams alongside them for as long as they want me there. After raising one child already, I know how valuable these years are, and I intend to enjoy life with them for as long as I can without distractions from things that must be canned, cleaned, sorted.
I can see, this is what I’ve been seeking this whole time.
The wool pants I made them to wear in the winter, the stories I stitched on the sewing machine, those were small connections made for tiny people. And now they’re growing too.
Im feeling the curtain close on life as the homemaker I imagined myself being, and the tide turning to the woman and mother this journey has recast me in. She’s taking some getting used to, but, I think I like her.