When you're a parent, time is a limited and precious commodity that there never seems to be enough of. This can bring brief moments of tension to all couples trying to do the hard work of juggling schedules, career demands, the need for a break and the desire to be fully present for their children.
The more children you have, the more demands are made on your time… thus, the more uncomfortable conversations can be around which parent gets to go where and do what, when.
My husband and I figured out a long time ago that in order to maintain some sense of identity it was crucial for each of us to have a sacred window carved out for each of us in our week. During our 'personal' time, we may each make plans in any way that we chose with no constraints and no guilt. My husband gets Saturday. I get Sunday.
For a few hours, we can be wholly selfish and focus on meeting our own needs first. Personal time gave each of us a vital outlet - where he could go on long bike rides unhindered by timelines, and I could enjoy lunch with friends, sit or write quietly… anything I wanted, without a small person screaming, tugging at my pants and trying to get my attention.
For nearly six years, this arrangement has been a salvation for each of us - and brought much needed succor.
Realistically though, events do come up from time to time that mess with our agreed upon schedule and knock us out of our balance. Important gatherings given by family and friends that neither of us want to miss happen on Saturdays and Sundays… necessitating that one or both of us give up our personal time and come to join the fun and be part of the family. There are other things that can arise as well - business trips, larger projects, etc. Life happens.
Today we've just exchanged a rare handful of loaded words about our weekend schedule. My husband is feeling pressured about the work he must complete which is weighing heavily on him ~ especially as he still wants to have enough time to go for a bike ride and spend time with friends this evening. Tomorrow (my day) is already booked up with important family commitments that neither of us can miss. Thus, the negotiation.
"Hon, I've got things to do," he said. "I've got a lot to get done."
"Well, I understand that - but what about the things I need to do? I've got work that is important to me too…" I replied.
"What - like your blog?" he laughed. "I've got REAL work to do."
Ugh.
That hurt.
Anyone who has read this 365 blog over the course of the last six months knows that it has significant value to me… and that I write it as a gift to our children, to impart to them my unique viewpoint on the meaning of life. Blogging isn't just a fun activity… something to alleviate boredom or for me to tackle as an alternative to painting my nails and eating bonbons. It's a real labor of love.
I write when I'm too tired to write, when I'm sick, when I'm sad, when I don't feel like writing. I write to share our lives because I made the 365 day commitment and I feel awful about the fact that I'm currently about five days behind. I write because I want to leave something behind me for our family that will stand the test of time, and because I want to leave some mark on this world that I existed and that the love I shared was powerful.
My husband is a loving and genuine guy, and I know that he didn't mean to say something cruel or unkind. He made his comments in a joking sort of way, as though he thinks it is humorous or cute that I am fully invested in a daily project that yields our family no money. Clearly, he doesn't totally understand why the blog matters to me. If he understood, I don't think he would have responded to me as such. He has always been proud of me and my dedication to any pursuit.
But still.
The meaning of today's blog, as written for our three small children, is simple:
Never judge or make fun of a pastime that may not appear valuable to you, but which may be crucial to the happiness or life purpose of another person.
There is no way that any of us can see the world from the vantage point of another person's eyes, or understand their individual perspective on "what matters". I personally believe that when we embrace and accept other people and their dreams, it brings more acceptance and understanding in the world back into our own lives.
My mother taught me as a small child that what blesses one, blesses all. I figure, I may not understand why someone collects hundreds or thousands of similar looking seashells or cat figurines - but if it brings joy to them and isn't hurting anyone else, it isn't my place to judge whether that kind of pastime is important or worthy. Perhaps the joy alone that collectors feel when adding a new piece to their collection is enough.
Surely at least part of the meaning of life is to live joyfully! When others are joyful, then they are much more likely to act with kindness wherever they go.
My older brother can spend an entire weekend day sitting on a surfboard in the middle of the Pacific Ocean waiting for a single good wave to come. It can take hours. He must be very patient. Technically, he is not 'accomplishing' anything during these times and I suppose that some might say that he is wasting time.
It is true that he isn't making any money or producing anything (except great memories!) during these times on the water. I can imagine men his age who would scoff at the notion of a 45 year old man devoting whole days of his life to sitting on a board in the water.
Those who love the ocean and share his sense of its majesty and spirituality understand his actions completely, though. They "get" that he is living in alignment with his own passions and even if they aren't big surfing fans, they support his choice to surf out of respect for him.
I've never surfed but always understood my brother - and really admired his enthusiasm for the waves. As a child I would hear him awaken when it was still dark outside, to make sure that he and his buddies got to the surf just as the Sun was rising so that they would get the best waves staked out for their daily fun. They'd even hike through unmapped territory to find the best surf breaks, braving any manner of cuts, scrapes and reptiles. At times they were injured in the water by punishing waves pushing them into the jagged shoreline.
Hardship and sleep deprivation meant nothing to them compared to the coursing energy they felt pulsating through their veins as they caught a wave and rode the powerful sea to the shore she hugged so fiercely.
To me, a pastime doesn't have to be lucrative to be worthwhile. For me, writing is like waiting for the perfect wave. Sometimes I get it wrong… usually I have to be very patient - but sometimes, I do manage to create a line or image of indelible beauty. Sometimes I do actually capture an ounce of the precious sparkle in my kids. Sometimes, I record a conversation or adventure that really will comprise a sacred family memory down the road.
I believe that you get out of a project what you put into it - and I've put a lot of energy and emotion into writing this 365 blog. I believe and hope that someday our children will get much of that feeling out of it… and at the very minimum, they will know unequivocally at the ages of 20, 30, 40, 70, 90! that they had a mother and father who adored them - even in the crazy, busy, challenging times.
I hope that my husband, who is a total sweetheart with the best of intentions, will eventually see that this blog is more than just a bunch of words on a computer screen.
It's a record of our lives together. Something honest and deeply felt.
It is my heart, codified.
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