Posts Tagged ‘choices’

 

In true Gemini fashion

Thursday, January 28th, 2010
In true Gemini fashion, I change my mind, my outlook and my opinions on a seemingly daily basis and often when I read over some of the material I have posted, I am shocked to discover that it is 100% original material and it came out of the recesses of my dark and cavernous mind.
So, I’m doing a repost … Margot (of http://joumaseblerrieblog.blogspot.com/ fame) loved it and it’s something that I just may need to remind myself of today.

Something that keeps coming up amongst my peers is the decision to work full time or not. I know what it feels like on the inside – believe me I have been there, desperate to have more of everything good, terrified of giving up anything in case I need it later and paranoid about not being able to provide for the future. But, looking in now from the outside, I have so much faith in the process of a holistic lifestyle. I can’t consume what I don’t have and can’t waste what I don’t have. My choices are more limited but my enjoyment of life totally unrestricted. There is a calmness as though life is slower, more meaningful and less inhibited than before. It seems the more one has, the higher and nearer we place the boundaries … and when you have less, there is no end to the potential you can achieve.
I was chatting to a friend (you know, the ones we non-working mums meet up with for play dates) about ambition and success. Her father-in-law had a simple life and a regular 9-5 job, put all his children through tertiary education and was a respected and loved man. Compared to a man in a powerful executive job who hardly saw his children, apart from annual family holidays, we were weighing up the benchmarks of success. I’m sure if there were a vote the outcome would be more or less equal based on the perspective of the person voting. As for my vote … it’s pretty obvious what it would be – success means nothing unless it has a positive impact on the significant people in that person’s life. What’s the point otherwise? If the choice boils down to a simple education thing, is it better to be able to afford to put your child through ’varsity or is it better to see him and help nurture him before then so he is better able to put himself through ’varsity? My child is still little so I choose to see him – I might, however, change my mind when he becomes a teenager J I see so many parents torn between their need to see their children and their neurosis about their nest egg and recently a lot of people have lost their nest egg despite their choice to grown that instead of their children. Obviously there are people who don’t have the choice and have to be a double-income family. But if no one’s going to die if things are downscaled, then surely the choice is a simple one. This isn’t a judgement of people who want more as I totally get it – I get ambition and the freedom money can buy – I just need to make the point that all choices come with compromise and it’s best to be certain you can live with whatever that compromise may be.
Sure it’s always going to be scary – what important choice is ever not scary? – but it’s a matter of going to the edge and taking the leap of faith to see if flight is possible. There would be no reason to live if it weren’t for the challenges in life – after all, it is the challenges that make life what it is in the first place.
I don’t know anyone so far who hasn’t jumped first and then made the choice to fly.

Some one once said that the choices you make follow you through life …

Friday, November 13th, 2009

This made me think about a friend of mine who, on discovering she was pregnant, went to every clinic in town to hunt down one that would give her the abortion pill. But on finding one, decided there must be a reason it had been so difficult to find it in the first place that she couldn’t go through with it after all. She now has this bright and bubbly child who comes with her fair share of trials and troubles but who fills the house with light and joy. It’s hard to imagine there would ever be regret … and I don’t even ask because it is so unimportant now.

Becoming a mother was the biggest shock of my life and learning to love the child I claimed had ruined my life was a tough journey indeed with many a tortuous mountain peak. I now find that the love I have developed for him over the years has grown like a tumour around my heart and to get rid of that love would mean ripping my entire heart out of my chest.

So, although I feel guilty and wonder if he’ll ever forgive me for not wanting him to start with, there is no cell in my body that would want it any other way. Sure there are times when I hate my role and wish I could be untethered again … but, this child: he is meant to be here for reasons I am, as yet, incapable of explaining.

Obsession with schools

Thursday, November 5th, 2009

I find myself breaking out in a sweat whenever the school topic comes up at dinner parties. I might actually be forced into home schooling as the very thought of trawling through school grounds and interviewing teachers who really couldn’t care one way or the other whether the child who is my prince attends his school or not makes me want to break the parenting deal that requires me to educate to the best of my ability.

My child is four. He is perfect in every way … like everyone’s child, of course. I wanted to give him away for the first two years of his life and am only really getting to know him now that he has wormed him way into my blood like a parasite I am now loathe to get rid of because I would die without it.

Now, when I watch him sleeping, I realise the significance of what has been entrusted to me and it is enough to make me feel suffocated with the pressure of being the perfect mother to this perfect human child.

He changes every day and it the most incredible human being I have ever met so the thought of leaving him in the care of an institution each day, terrifies me. I don’t have great memories of school – and the ones I do have are tainted by too much booze and Tippex thinners – so I need to know my child so much better before I can feel qualified to pick an appropriate schooling system. Of course, I am fully aware of the fact that he won’t get in anywhere now because most people pick the school for their child while they are in the act of procreation.

So, now what? I don’t know. I honestly don’t know how to chose something so fundamentally important – something that will have such a huge impact on this person who is relying on me so heavily to do good by him.

Which brings me to the next post …

Giving it all up vs. hanging onto an illusion

Wednesday, November 4th, 2009

I think I know why it is so difficult for woman to give up their careers to look after their children. I wasn’t aware of it until I visited where I used to have the same issues. Before I had a child, and even in the first years of having him, I was extremely critical of anyone who could just give up their life to stay at home with their child/ren. I thought it was a cop-out, the easy option and a weak choice. And now that I’m on the other side, I see more intensely the friction between working and non-working mums as I feel the contempt that comes with my perceived lifestyle of non-contribution and laziness. Sure, it’s not necessarily directed at me … but at people who have made the same choices as I have … Regardless, it’s a tough pill to swallow since I am now on the other side and I have the great perspective of having tried both options. Perspective counts for naught though when you can’t categorically state which is better.

It’s just got to be better for you and not just a better view for others.

In Limbo

Friday, October 30th, 2009

I crossed over into the life of my parallel dweller. It was temporary – 10 days – and it was fabulous. I booked to travel to Paris and London to run a race, visit friends and stroll the High Streets of my heyday. I counted down the weeks, days, hours and minutes to my departure, planning everything in minute detail so as to not miss out on anything I had been hankering for.

I have a friend who won’t leave her child for a night and I have friends who will leave happily for three weeks and I have friends who have varying levels of tolerance for staying away from their kids … somewhere between those two extremes. I don’t yet know where I fit.

Leaving my husband and child was filled with mixed feelings of ‘get me out of here’ and ‘I’m a terrible mother for wanting to leave so badly’. It was made worse by the call I got while going through passport control – my child was in a state because he was under the impression that I was leaving forever (perhaps he just knows me well enough to realise what a fine line I was traversing trying to connect with ‘the other side’).

I had pangs of wanting to take my child with me on my mini-adventure and a small amount of separation anxiety – a direct result of his having formed so much a part of my identity for so long now. But, once on that plane, I had shunned my mothering comfort zone and assumed my old identity – I was a free agent, meeting people as a confident, independent woman; a person I thought I had lost. The next ten days, as you can well imagine, were a whirlwind of plugging back into the grid of soul connections and lifestyle adjustments. I rode the rollercoaster of hating every minute and never wanting it to end. I was high on adrenalin and I almost valued my fix enough to call home and say I was staying. Instead … well, I’m back after tearful farewells and aching hellos … and it’s as though I haven’t quite left the fairground, but everyone’s packed up and gone home.

I feel now like I have an overloaded system of unprocessed information and things undone. I have launched myself into a state of limbo between lives; between choices; and I find myself pining again for what might have been. I have one foot in my parallel dweller’s life and it feels like she wants to keep it there – perhaps out of spite for what she sees I have … so much of what she will never have.

My parallel dweller

Thursday, October 29th, 2009

In my latest therapy session we discussed all the many ways my life has changed. Could I say I regret having had a child or would it be more accurate to say that he has got me to where I am today and contributed to the person I am right now?

I have always been aware of that sassy chick in my parallel universe who has a great job earning a great salary that allows her to buy the things she wants and enables her to travel to Japan and Brazil on a whim. She is confident because her clothes aren’t always in a state, she can still wear heels and her stomach muscles are still as taut as when she was thirteen.

There’s no doubt I am still aware of her but I now look at her with admiration, not envy. She possesses a lifestyle of different choices and though some may seem so much better from where I’m standing, I am certain my choices show a lifestyle just as enviable to someone on her side.

Speaking of choices …

Thursday, October 22nd, 2009

Something that keeps coming up amongst my peers is the decision to work full time or not. I know what it feels like on the inside – believe me I have been there, desperate to have more of everything good, terrified of giving up anything in case I need it later and paranoid about not being able to provide for the future. But, looking in now from the outside, I have so much faith in the process of a holistic lifestyle. I can’t consume what I don’t have and can’t waste what I don’t have. My choices are more limited but my enjoyment of life totally unrestricted. There is a calmness as though life is slower, more meaningful and less inhibited than before. It seems the more one has, the higher and nearer we place the boundaries … and when you have less, there is no end to the potential you can achieve.

I was chatting to a friend (you know, the ones we non-working mums meet up with for play dates) about ambition and success. Her father-in-law had a simple life and a regular 9-5 job, put all his children through tertiary education and was a respected and loved man. Compared to a man in a powerful executive job who hardly saw his children, apart from annual family holidays, we were weighing up the benchmarks of success. I’m sure if there were a vote the outcome would be more or less equal based on the perspective of the person voting. As for my vote … it’s pretty obvious what it would be – success means nothing unless it has a positive impact on the significant people in that person’s life. What’s the point otherwise? If the choice boils down to a simple education thing, is it better to be able to afford to put your child through ’varsity or is it better to see him and help nurture him before then so he is better able to put himself through ’varsity? My child is still little so I choose to see him – I might, however, change my mind when he becomes a teenager :) I see so many parents torn between their need to see their children and their neurosis about their nest egg and recently a lot of people have lost their nest egg despite their choice to grow that instead of their children. Obviously there are people who don’t have the choice and have to be a double-income family. But if no one’s going to die if things are downscaled, then surely the choice is a simple one. This isn’t a judgement of people who want more as I totally get it – I get ambition and the freedom money can buy – I just need to make the point that all choices come with compromise and it’s best to be certain you can live with whatever that compromise may be.

Sure it’s always going to be scary – what important choice is ever not scary? – but it’s a matter of going to the edge and taking the leap of faith to see if flight is possible. There would be no reason to live if it weren’t for the challenges in life – after all, it is the challenges that make life what it is in the first place.

I don’t know anyone so far who hasn’t jumped first and then made the choice to fly.

So what is it you’re doing now?

Monday, July 20th, 2009

It’s happened. That face that I saw in the mirror three years ago, two years ago and even last year was a different face to the one I see today. I saw a mother on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I saw a person stuck in societal traps, and I have been punching my way out of that box for years. I am out. After years of self-doubt, self-flagellation and general self-loathing, I can today look in the mirror and see a different reflection.

I used to hate that question: ‘So what is it that you do?’ I used to stumble and stammer and make a total botch up, not knowing what exactly I did do … I was stuck in a kind of limbo, a time warp between lives or stages. Having a child in your 30s does lend itself to a small amount of confusion when all this happens and you automatically assume it is the proverbial mid-life crisis. I have grown up with a mother who has always tried to force me into the housewife box, a box that is both too small and too regular in shape to fit even my big toe … so it stung when people automatically made that assumption as soon as I gave birth (a lot like the people at my wedding who made the assumption that I would cease to work as soon as the nuptials were complete). I could have claimed to be on maternity leave but that would have prompted more forceful enquiries of, ‘So, what is it you do?’ i.e. what great job is this maternity leave sandwiched between.

After years of trying to find my mojo and getting myself into a tizz over not earning, not achieving, not contributing and making not the blindest bit of difference, I found my space and my place. I made a choice. I’m working on my second book and in-between writing days I do volunteer work in community schools. I suppose I am lucky that I did well for myself before having a baby, and my husband is able to cover the bills. But it is not an easy choice relinquishing power and accepting a dependant role. I have made a lifestyle choice for the whole family, limiting our earnings to a single income and I have to live with the consequences. But, paying or not, I have never enjoyed any job more than the ones I am doing now so that makes it a relatively easy choice after all.

More choice?

Sunday, May 10th, 2009

As I stumble down the stairs with yet another bundle of laundry, I can’t help but ponder my choices … specifically the one that prevents me from chasing down my parallel dweller and demanding my life back so I can go to work and leave all this behind. The child wet his bed, the dog is particularly needy and the husband is being passed over for all the small stuff that seems to never get done without the correct prioritising. It’s a mess. It’s my mess. It scatters me.

What defines you as a failure? Who decides? Do we? Or do we put that decision in the hands of people who care little about us, and possibly don’t even know us at all?

Considering my choices, I realise that value does not come with a paycheque. Too many people are working too hard to prove that they are valuable and getting nothing but grey hair and a redundancy package.

It’s entirely up to you whether you want to feel like a complete failure … or whether you can accept that you are just changing your focus and accept that you have been a success and you can still be a success – just without the paycheque. Having said that, it took me almost three years to realise that I didn’t have to run screaming from motherhood and that equality doesn’t come with that paycheque but rather with a meeting of minds. I do sometimes hanker for my life without a child, for the comaraderie of a job, for the satisfaction of knowing I am going to get paid even if I am not really valued.

I saw a stone statue of a woman at Kirstenbosch. It is a woman carved in stone, sleek and bold, elegant and poised. The plaque read something along the lines of: a woman wants to be beautiful and respected but also wants to retain some of the traditional values. The woman I was there with has a 2-year old daughter and she has decided now to quit work as she’s done the whole corporate thing for so long and she realises she is missing out on the other stuff at a time when the ‘other stuff’ is slowly disappearing (i.e. each day that passes is a day you can’t get back with your children). I also read something in a Steve Biddulph book that goes something like: the work of the old days took physical labour but at least it only took your body; these days you have to give your soul.

We have too many choices as women these days but what we have to realise is that they are still choices. We don’t have to do it all. We actually get to choose. It’s pretty fabulous if only we could deal with our choices and not always want what we have given up.

I work for free now, giving my time in little ways to children who need me. My paycheque is the incredible satisfaction I get from reaching out. And because I now have a job to go to, it doesn’t matter that there is no actual paycheque because I have finally found where I need to be. This makes the work I do at home so much more valuable to me as it no longer scatters me but keeps me grounded. I realise now how easy it is to slip into the dark places.

There’s been a shift. I am finally comfortable in this space as I have accepted it ‘for now’. I am giving my heart but I am not giving my soul.

The silent scream

Wednesday, October 8th, 2008

She tried to prove she could do it all while trying to be happy doing nothing at all.

During one of the postnatal depression periods following the birth … and close to a couple of years after the birth … I had a moment (perhaps several, if I am totally honest) of considering having another child. This was once I had quit my job to write, was still in therapy and felt – generally – rather useless. I felt that if I had one more and made my life pure hell, I would be busy enough to justify the existence I had chosen. I was feeling irrational at the time and had it not been for the fact that my coil (a.k.a. extreme body piercing) was dislodged and causing too much pain to have anything near to the kind of passionate encounter that might lead to more offspring, there might have been another ‘whoopsy’.

I like to think I graduated from therapy feeling like I can stand by my choices no matter how much I am trying to prove. I’ve done it all and had it all and I have tasted success, money, travel and more than my share of indulgence and extravagance. Life is short with so many pressures. I am ready to cut a small wedge out of my existence to dedicate this part of this life to love, nurture, respect, support and teach a boy who is destined for greatness.

I’m going to play my trump card – my card of excellence. Can there be any greater achievement?

CONTROL

Tuesday, September 16th, 2008

I challenge anyone to prove to me that smacking your child shows more control that not.

The reason I don’t smack my child because I was beaten as a child … so perhaps I can’t be totally rational about this. This is, it was my parents’ attempt at gaining an element of control when they thought all was lost. They used this as their way of showing that they had the control. I believe not. I believe that the point a parent crosses that line is a point where all control is lost – by the parent – as well as a fair amount of trust and respect by the child. Parents think (well, mine did) that using the wooden spoon, leather slipper and cane remove them from the pain inflicted and thereby absolves them of their guilt.

Having said that though, I can’t help but wonder whether, in holding back that anger that produces the lashing, the anger finds a less resistant route and finds a way to hurt in even deeper ways.

Something to ponder. But in the meantime I cannot slide that slippery slope. I cannot bear to lose my child’s trust and most of all, I cannot even comprehend hurting that perfect being no matter how much abuse he throws at me. How do they learn so quickly, not only where all the buttons are but how and when to push them to maximum effect?

The Anti-Mum

Wednesday, August 29th, 2007

An avid campaigner against the need to have a child has reached a stage of her biology that she is battling to hold at bay. As the last of her peers to be childless, she feels her life is lacking something and that this indicates that she needs a baby.

Nobody needs a baby; most people just want one. It’s immaterial what your motives are for either wanting one or not but you have to be very clear on what you actually need.

Wanting a baby requires you to want it badly enough to compensate for the loss of freedom, mobility, travel, late-night parties and the halving of your relationships.

But when you choose the alternative, you have to be strong enough in the face of the social pressures, the emotional guilt and the need to know if it will ever be enough to not have one.

Having a baby is like upgrading or downgrading your neighbourhood … whichever way you choose to look at it. It’s a lifestyle choice. Take it or leave it but never feel it is so integral to life that you will feel incomplete without it.