I came across An Inspirational Video by Sebastien Montaz-Rosset the other day, called "Revelation: A Visual Poem" In a rare moment of quiet in my home, I was able to sit back and really take it in, the words and images which are so inspiring. My favorite line came early in the clip, "I towed the line, it wasn't my line".
It wasn't my line.
Ah, how many times have I felt that way? How many times have you? As a wife and mother, I have always felt that my family is perfect just the way it is. We each have our separate personalities which I have made a point to glorify. I have spent my entire adult life supporting and promoting the dreams of my husband and my children because, without even being conscious of this desire, it is very much my desire to help them become who they are; not someone else's idea of who they are.
Somewhere in all of that, though, I got lost. There are only so many hours in a day, and most moms devote so much of their time to the family (as it should be) that little time is left for anything else. At times, I think to myself, rather selfishly, "Who will I be, when the kids are grown up?"
Once I get over myself and think rationally again, it occurs to me that the choices I have made were mine. I do not regret them. Now that the kids are growing older and need less of me, I am faced with the question of who I will be when they go away. I will always be their mom. I just won't always devote all of my time to their needs because they will be doing what I have raised them to do; making their own choices and being responsible for their own lives.
What will be my line?
Gathering strength from the deep philosophical views on Pinterest, I've been thinking about my future.
Yada, yada, yada. Where does my heart lead me? What is fun for me? What do I dream about with passion? Whatever the question, the answer is always the same. I must be in my beloved woods. How do I turn my walks in the woods into a career? Therein lies the problem. But then I receive inspiration from a random video, and with it comes the hope that someday, a long time from now, I can tow my own line.
When I envision who I will be, it falls under the category of part-time semi-adventurer.
It most certainly will not include yoga on a tightrope between mountain peaks. It won't include running through the woods; I walk briskly, at best. It won't include mountain climbing or off-road cycling or jumping off a cliff with a parachute. But I think that maybe, just maybe, the line I tow might include inspiration. Possibly, I can experience the outdoors with less adventure and inspire others to do the same. I don't know if I can make a career out of it, but according to Pinterest, I can.
I spend what amounts to too much time, according to my family, alone in the woods. From my perspective, I don't go there often enough. We're working on finding that balance. In the meantime, I take what I can get with the family's support, using each experience as a lesson for the future.
People have asked me why I want to leave my family to go off alone in the middle of nowhere. My answer is simple. From time to time, I briefly leave my family, but my family never leaves me.
Last February when I was walking Drummond Island alone, at the sight of a massive 14pt Buck I instinctively pointed it out to my son, only to remember he wasn't at my side. Hiking the woods near the Two Hearted River by myself, I exclaimed over a pretty wildflower that my little Bean would love, had she been walking with me. Out in the middle of nowhere, I think of all the things I want to tell my daughter who is soon to leave for college. I walk alone, but I feel my kids and my husband in my heart, I silently speak to them, and I take lots of pictures to share with them later.
I travel alone because it is only in solitude that I can open myself up to being nothing. I don't need to be in a role in the wilderness. I belong to no one but God. It is this time alone, a time of being nothing, that allows me to come home and be everything my family needs. I go alone and empty myself so I can come home and be filled up again by the people I love most. Put that on Pinterest!
I don't know yet what my line is. I'm okay with it. There is time yet for me, the right time is just ahead. And the woods will be there waiting for me, while the mountains call to the real adventurers. For now, I will focus on my family, taking a few days here and there to self impose a time-out while I live in a tin can, push myself to my physical unpotential, search for my elusive wolf, and walk alone in the woods. The time alone is my line reconnecting me to the rest of my heart. If I walk that line very carefully, keep it delicately balanced between home and the wilderness, it will never break.
It wasn't my line.
Ah, how many times have I felt that way? How many times have you? As a wife and mother, I have always felt that my family is perfect just the way it is. We each have our separate personalities which I have made a point to glorify. I have spent my entire adult life supporting and promoting the dreams of my husband and my children because, without even being conscious of this desire, it is very much my desire to help them become who they are; not someone else's idea of who they are.
Somewhere in all of that, though, I got lost. There are only so many hours in a day, and most moms devote so much of their time to the family (as it should be) that little time is left for anything else. At times, I think to myself, rather selfishly, "Who will I be, when the kids are grown up?"
Once I get over myself and think rationally again, it occurs to me that the choices I have made were mine. I do not regret them. Now that the kids are growing older and need less of me, I am faced with the question of who I will be when they go away. I will always be their mom. I just won't always devote all of my time to their needs because they will be doing what I have raised them to do; making their own choices and being responsible for their own lives.
What will be my line?
Gathering strength from the deep philosophical views on Pinterest, I've been thinking about my future.
 |
| I just like this one! |
Yada, yada, yada. Where does my heart lead me? What is fun for me? What do I dream about with passion? Whatever the question, the answer is always the same. I must be in my beloved woods. How do I turn my walks in the woods into a career? Therein lies the problem. But then I receive inspiration from a random video, and with it comes the hope that someday, a long time from now, I can tow my own line.When I envision who I will be, it falls under the category of part-time semi-adventurer.
It most certainly will not include yoga on a tightrope between mountain peaks. It won't include running through the woods; I walk briskly, at best. It won't include mountain climbing or off-road cycling or jumping off a cliff with a parachute. But I think that maybe, just maybe, the line I tow might include inspiration. Possibly, I can experience the outdoors with less adventure and inspire others to do the same. I don't know if I can make a career out of it, but according to Pinterest, I can.
I spend what amounts to too much time, according to my family, alone in the woods. From my perspective, I don't go there often enough. We're working on finding that balance. In the meantime, I take what I can get with the family's support, using each experience as a lesson for the future.
People have asked me why I want to leave my family to go off alone in the middle of nowhere. My answer is simple. From time to time, I briefly leave my family, but my family never leaves me.
Last February when I was walking Drummond Island alone, at the sight of a massive 14pt Buck I instinctively pointed it out to my son, only to remember he wasn't at my side. Hiking the woods near the Two Hearted River by myself, I exclaimed over a pretty wildflower that my little Bean would love, had she been walking with me. Out in the middle of nowhere, I think of all the things I want to tell my daughter who is soon to leave for college. I walk alone, but I feel my kids and my husband in my heart, I silently speak to them, and I take lots of pictures to share with them later.
I travel alone because it is only in solitude that I can open myself up to being nothing. I don't need to be in a role in the wilderness. I belong to no one but God. It is this time alone, a time of being nothing, that allows me to come home and be everything my family needs. I go alone and empty myself so I can come home and be filled up again by the people I love most. Put that on Pinterest!
I don't know yet what my line is. I'm okay with it. There is time yet for me, the right time is just ahead. And the woods will be there waiting for me, while the mountains call to the real adventurers. For now, I will focus on my family, taking a few days here and there to self impose a time-out while I live in a tin can, push myself to my physical unpotential, search for my elusive wolf, and walk alone in the woods. The time alone is my line reconnecting me to the rest of my heart. If I walk that line very carefully, keep it delicately balanced between home and the wilderness, it will never break. 
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