I just watched a powerful, ... seemingly innocuous, film today about a mother recording each day of her child's life via photographs. It was inspired by her own sister's project to be grateful for *something* for a whole year, and record it. That project is now to become a documentary called simply '365 Grateful'. You should probably check it out...its inspiring of course.
The film of snapshots is on Gregarious Peach blogsite (you know how to search...go surf) and it is poignant, simple, honest and the accompanying post is just gold. Gold. In her blogpost she describes how *life* is with young babies, with a head full of ideas, and little Beings asking for attention. She says quite pointedly that she gets angry at her children for the stupid things like interrupting her internet surfing waste time, and not being able to progress thoughts and ideas into any sort of fruition, and that just really struck home for me. I wept.
My life may seem like a glorious non-stop honouring of 'the child' and creativity, freedom and a sort of radicalisation of life in comparison to how other people are living it, and to an extent, yes, it is. Yet am I being honest about my life to Me? Am I understanding that *the dream* and the reality are two separate entities? Because to be honest, they sometimes combine, which makes coming out of *the dream* always a jarring and unpleasant experience. One moment I'm floating on a harmony cloud, children happy, contented, animated, loving, sharing, collective,... and then 'splat'...face down in poo! Can I choose to make *the dream* my reality and just stay there for the most part? occasionally popping into reality to pay the rent and a few utilities, travel some highway and fulfill a certain set of obligations?
 | |
| 'Tree of Youth' Pencil on cartridge, 1990-1991, Jannette Tibbs |
There's a crack in the wall made with time and age,... go, climb through it...
That's my Dream ;}Facebook can be a time waster, and I thought as much about blogging at first, but now I use it as an online journal, and that just makes it flow so much easier. My children and their experience of me as their mother, helper, teacher and student feels like the most important and rewarding thing I can do as a Being. I can't think of anything; no career, vocation or belief that would surpass my commitment to their happiness, and yet, when I've been searching, looking, reading, writing or 'networking', I've somehow convinced myself that they don't require my attention. It's utter bullshit.
Not like I'm having *me time* with a candleight soak in a Lavender Oil and Oatmeal bath...in which case I'd probably share it with Angelina Petal anyway....BUT, you know? the video of Gregarious Peach just slammed home how fleeting this time is with the children and how very very very very very very precious it IS. I've constructed a life with my children, home-educating, radical parenting, etc... to allow me to completely immerse myself in the life I wish for, and then I go and piss a good amount of it away trolling the 'net. How stupid can I act?
So stuff it all, I'm signing off. I think I may give it all in, this 'social networking', and just Live.
Ciao!
Love you!
Bye!
xxx
Mwah!!!
