Tag Archives: housework

Not Superwoman

11 Mar

I am not Superwoman.  I really can’t have it all, and I certainly can’t do it all. As unsurprising as this admission may be, I need to keep reminding myself of it.

I have only so much time and energy. This I cannot change.  Therefore, I feel the need to spend what time and energy I have to do the most good.  But what is that?

Sure, the superheroes of comic books and movies can save the world.  That’s because they don’t have to stop a moving train and chase after a toddler, at least not at the same time.  Just imagine Superman having to change his clothes and his sidekick’s diaper in that phone booth.  Exactly.  Not to mention, those guys always have some adopted earth-mom or great-aunt who washes their colorful laundry, cooks their hearty meals and no doubt picks their dirty tights and capes off the floor each morning. I say, those women are the real heroes, the ones scrubbing the super-scummy showers and toilets. 

Of course, Wonder Woman changed everything.  In the seventies, she was my generation’s girlhood role model of female power, proving that women could do anything men could and thereby setting the field for the rest of us to prove the same thing in real life. But did Wonder Woman have a family to take care of?  I think not.  Although if she had, I’m sure she would have had really great full-time childcare and bi-weekly maid service.  But even then, she would have lived with the working-mom angst that is different but every bit as painful as the stay-at-home mom angst.  That’s my take anyway, having thrived and despaired on both sides of this proverbial fence.

So what about our artist child?  This metaphor, used repeatedly in Julia Cameron’s books, has more meaning than ever for me.  With the many demanding roles and commitments we take on as women, what time or energy is left for us to “play?”  Yet at the end of the day–even a chaotic, messy, unglamorous day like most of my days–it still comes down to something else.  Ultimately, busyness is just another form of procrastination, a respectable-seeming alibi for not being where your heart is telling you to be.

My family “comes first,” as people often say.  But if I don’t include my artist child as part of my family, then the sailing won’t be smooth forever; a hurricane will inevitably form in the warm waters of my unconscious and hit land hard.  So once again, I am faced with the need to let go.  I must let go of things that are less important if I am to truly grab hold of those things that are most important in my journey as an artist and a spirit here on planet earth.

I am not Superwoman.  I am not Superwoman.  I cannot create art and do everything else I want or need to do, at least not at the same time.  I must choose.  I must prioritize.  I must walk. Because when my artist gets to play, the rest of my life seems happier, too.

Kidnapped by The Hunger Games

22 Feb

Ok, here I go – my first attempt at a blog post, besides the deeply insightful “this site is under construction” post.

Why am I the last of the chicks to post? Is it because of overwhelming day-to-day demands of keeping up with a toddler and two school-aged boys while balancing a part-time job? Or could it be that I’m just a procrastinator by nature, and I have put off writing because there’s always tomorrow?

No, it’s because of this darn book series my sister got me hooked on. It’s so ironic – reading is such an enjoyable way to spend free time; however, if you don’t have any free time, everything else gets dropped (writing, housework, housework, housework). Okay, so housework isn’t that important in the scheme of things. The dust gathers again tomorrow anyway so why bother?

The series that has kidnapped me for a few days begins with The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It’s a young adult series about a future America, where children are the pawns of twisted adults who use them as killing machines against each other. Yes, children kill each other. And I just found out they’re making it into a movie. Anyone remember Jamie Kennedy’s Child Island episode where parents, eager for their child to be the next Hollywood star, don’t hesitate to sign up their kids for a TV reality show in which kids try to survive in the wild and end up hunting each other?  Almost sounds like my house, but with knives instead of light sabers.

Anyway, The Hunger Games books are a great read for anyone looking for an escape into a world that makes you think, “this life isn’t so bad after all.” Just plan ahead for no interruptions (I feel like hoarding food each time I put the book down, and not just the usual candy from the kids).

Now it’s time to feed my starving inner artist and continue my pursuit of the muse

%d bloggers like this: