June 9, 2016
"Kids playing together and simply getting along, going with the flow, challenging their limits, inventing their own games, singing their own songs and turning drab little pebbles into something beautiful in their minds is what "being a kid" is all about. Yes, it was a blissful kind of morning."
Those were my thoughts at the end of my daycare day exactly one year ago.
As I read the paragraphs that preceded and followed this moment of bliss, I was reminded of the challenges we were facing on a daily basis. I was wearing out. But I still found these "heaven on earth" moments within our chaotic days.
It has been seven months since I worked my last day of daycare. Seven months to refocus, restructure and recreate my life, my goals, myself and my dreams.
That sounds a little more romantic than the reality.
I have been lost more often than I have felt grounded. There is a conflict between feeling over-committed and underwhelmed all at the same time. I need to live a life where I feel like I am making a difference. In doing so, the self talk within my brain is over critical, harsh, demeaning and I am about the worst boss I've ever worked for.
I need to rebuild my reserves by carving out quiet time to recharge my battery. Yet when I have extra time on my hands, I waste it. I am not making effective use of the time I crave so much.
My most favorite place to be has become on the highway between my home and Mom's. I am forced to sit still with my thoughts, stay awake with them and not numb them with any form of technology, food or sleep. I am wide awake, alert and conscious. I love that feeling. I may have become addicted to driving in order to keep my focus "in my own lane".
I miss being home.
Thus, I have started romanticizing about days gone by. I loved having my work come to greet me in my home each and every day. The dress code was right, my feet were comfortable, extreme weather conditions didn't affect my day. As long as the furnace was working, our roof sheltered out the elements of the weather and we had food in the fridge, I had everything I needed right within these very four walls.
I miss my walls.
I have often walked through my life feeling immense gratitude for "my walls". A home where I felt safe, happy and protected from the harsher elements of life and the world around me has always centered me and made me feel whole. Even during the toughest days at daycare, I found my solace within these very walls.
I am hopeful summer will lessen the load I've carried throughout this past winter. I am starting to look up more these days. Up towards the sky, as I watch the birds. And out towards the great beyond as I keep my eyes open for wildlife of the four legged kind. Unfortunately I have spending far too much time looking down, in an effort to avoid the tent caterpillars which invaded our world the past several weeks.
The tent caterpillars are almost at the end of their season. They are spinning their cocoons and entering a phase of dormancy before they come back to life as winged creatures with a whole new vantage point.
Perhaps my need for solitude is my way of cocooning myself so I can find my wings again. Maybe my focus on birds and their young families is nature's way of reminding me to look up and be aware. It may be that my attention is being drawn towards new life as a reminder that there is something new and exciting ahead.
I have lost my ability to dream. I miss my dreams. I may have walked around with my head in the clouds as I dreamed my little dreams but those very dreams propelled me into living a fuller life and a happier existence.
I see a quiet weekend at home in my future. I do believe I need to find my little place in the sun, grab an empty notebook and dream a little dream.
I miss my dreams...