Thank you for sharing this part of your story, Rebecca. Feeling understood and seen, and understanding oneself goes a long way to finding that comfortable place you e always been seeking. It was hard won, but I do so love a happy ending!
"What else on earth would I do?"--This is what makes me smile, Rebecca. All the "what else" that is pouring out and will pour out now, as you know yourself.
I thought a lot about Dante's opening words as I culled together "Love and other Mysteries." There is this midlife knowing, common to many of us, though the particular knowing may be different.
I have only read "Gilead," but with your commentary, I think I need to read the other three. The idea of them as unique Gospel-like perspectives is helpful.
I always love what you notice, Megan. Your poet's mind!
If you read more of the Gilead books, let me know. Home was my favorite; Lila the most troubling--in a good way. But that was 10-15 years ago. I wonder which one, now in the middle of my life, would stand out most to me, were I to reread.
A few years ago I spent Mother's Day alone. I took the train into Cambridge and went to the Harvard Art Museum. Then to a coffee shop. Then a bookstore. Then had dinner alone in a pub with my book of poetry. It was a perfect day. I came home to my family refreshed and happy. Your solitary Mother's Day sounds like perfection to me.
I love your descriptions of your sensory-friendly house. I wish I had the ability to make our house less overwhelming and more sensory friendly. It's too small and there are too many of us and too much stuff. But it is packed with books and they at least feel like crowds of friends.
I realized a few years ago after we had to leave because of a flood that I really needed new carpets and curtains and throw pillows-- that beautiful textiles, especially handmade curtains, really bring me a deep sense of peace and joy. It felt indulgent, but something about these particular patterns gives my brain a little jolt of happiness.
For me the guilty feelings, when I feel them, and the self-reproaches are less about the physical space and more about my hoarding of time. Is it really ok to retreat from the world and spend an entire day not being useful keeping house and making homeschooling plans, but indulgently losing myself in books? Am I being lazy for not spending the day doing art but instead hiding in my room, hiding from my family?
Just last month, I was chatting with a friend about my idea Mother's Day. I said it would be to spend the day by myself. She took it to mean with my husband and kids (not extended family). I said, "No, literally just myself. Alone." She thought I was so weird.
It's nice to feel understood here. Thank you for sharing your story.
I am catching up with your memoir tonight and it is startling, and yet not, that it would be so related to the discussion you and I have been having- finding our own needed rhythms of rest and comfort. You have been on, and are continuing, on a journey that has been hard but is finally leading you where you have needed to be. I think you have become an accomplished curator, choosing what should stay and where it should be, and what should be discarded. That sounds like a creative endeavor and one you are well suited for.
Startling and yet not, indeed, my friend! Thank you for helping me see the continuity between previous times in my life and now. There is great reassurance in that. May we all, as you so beautifully say, become curators--wise and gentle ones--of what should stay and where it should be, and of what should be discarded.
Thank you for sharing this part of your story, Rebecca. Feeling understood and seen, and understanding oneself goes a long way to finding that comfortable place you e always been seeking. It was hard won, but I do so love a happy ending!
Thank you for saying this and for being here, Laura!
"What else on earth would I do?"--This is what makes me smile, Rebecca. All the "what else" that is pouring out and will pour out now, as you know yourself.
I thought a lot about Dante's opening words as I culled together "Love and other Mysteries." There is this midlife knowing, common to many of us, though the particular knowing may be different.
I have only read "Gilead," but with your commentary, I think I need to read the other three. The idea of them as unique Gospel-like perspectives is helpful.
I always love what you notice, Megan. Your poet's mind!
If you read more of the Gilead books, let me know. Home was my favorite; Lila the most troubling--in a good way. But that was 10-15 years ago. I wonder which one, now in the middle of my life, would stand out most to me, were I to reread.
A few years ago I spent Mother's Day alone. I took the train into Cambridge and went to the Harvard Art Museum. Then to a coffee shop. Then a bookstore. Then had dinner alone in a pub with my book of poetry. It was a perfect day. I came home to my family refreshed and happy. Your solitary Mother's Day sounds like perfection to me.
I love your descriptions of your sensory-friendly house. I wish I had the ability to make our house less overwhelming and more sensory friendly. It's too small and there are too many of us and too much stuff. But it is packed with books and they at least feel like crowds of friends.
I realized a few years ago after we had to leave because of a flood that I really needed new carpets and curtains and throw pillows-- that beautiful textiles, especially handmade curtains, really bring me a deep sense of peace and joy. It felt indulgent, but something about these particular patterns gives my brain a little jolt of happiness.
For me the guilty feelings, when I feel them, and the self-reproaches are less about the physical space and more about my hoarding of time. Is it really ok to retreat from the world and spend an entire day not being useful keeping house and making homeschooling plans, but indulgently losing myself in books? Am I being lazy for not spending the day doing art but instead hiding in my room, hiding from my family?
Thank you Rebecca. Your words, in your voice, were just what I needed today.
I'm so glad, Carri. Thank you.
Your words feel like home, Rebecca.
Just last month, I was chatting with a friend about my idea Mother's Day. I said it would be to spend the day by myself. She took it to mean with my husband and kids (not extended family). I said, "No, literally just myself. Alone." She thought I was so weird.
It's nice to feel understood here. Thank you for sharing your story.
Tiffany, we have so many similarities! Thank you for what you say about my words. I feel the same about yours.
I'm so glad I kept this in my inbox and finally read it. Thank you for sharing us your story, Rebecca.
Oh, thank you, Jenn!
I am catching up with your memoir tonight and it is startling, and yet not, that it would be so related to the discussion you and I have been having- finding our own needed rhythms of rest and comfort. You have been on, and are continuing, on a journey that has been hard but is finally leading you where you have needed to be. I think you have become an accomplished curator, choosing what should stay and where it should be, and what should be discarded. That sounds like a creative endeavor and one you are well suited for.
Startling and yet not, indeed, my friend! Thank you for helping me see the continuity between previous times in my life and now. There is great reassurance in that. May we all, as you so beautifully say, become curators--wise and gentle ones--of what should stay and where it should be, and of what should be discarded.