I had a little reminder this weekend of who I am — who I really am, grown-up me, when I’m not ever-fraught mummy, best-supporting spouse, finance-and-household officer, lost-and-confused nomad. When I am just me, the way I was —oh! — so many years ago. This weekend, we took my sister’s car back to her and combined it with a side-trip to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival.
That I spent more money than I had budgeted for, or even that I had to spend, was no matter. That my mother and sister and dear children were bored, hot, and exhausted made no difference to me at all. That there was next to nothing that I could eat and so I went all day so little food that it would have normally had me shaking with hunger was no problem. I was in my element, I was beside myself with excitement, I felt like myself again — it was marvelous! My sister looked at my face at one point and laughed out loud. “You look crazed!” she said. “You’re so excited. You’re like a kid!”
And, looking back, it taught me a few things as well. I realised just how much I need to make a bit of time each day to do something for me, something that makes me feel productive, creative, and which I love (…besides raising my daughters — which I do love with all my soul, but you know what I mean). I don’t get that time these days — hardly ever — and I didn’t realise how much I missed it until I was immersed in so many things I’d love to spend that time doing, if only I had it again.
I realised I am in serious need of some local fibre-friends who really get what this means to me. And, so I don’t have to subject my poor family to any more long, hot, dirty days at the county fairgrounds, surrounded by bleating sheep and a frenzied me. They were patient, but we were on two different planets.
And… I realised that when it’s time to go back to work (which M increasingly is hinting is now), I need to do everything I can to find a job that really fulfills me. I want to work in a field that leaves me feeling as alive inside as I felt this weekend, something that permeates my dreams the way it did, something that inspires me so much that I would forgo precious sleep and get up 3 hours early just in order to go back on my own for more. I dread the thought of going back to work because I dreaded the work I used to do. I want to love my work. I want to be productive and creative and passionate about my work. I want that heart-pounding, mouth-salivating excitement that I felt this weekend.
I have no idea how I’ll pull that off. But I am old enough now, and experienced enough, to know that I don’t want to settle for anything less.
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