Motherhood and Dreams
I guess I grew tired of it, too. Chasing my tail, eventually. Looking for inner peace, looking for some sort of happiness inside. I grew weary of never having that one place to put down my stuff and to have my own kitchen with my own things, my own fridge with the type of foods that I like.
It was in India, that I started creating this dream. The dream of how I would eventually "end up". Isn't that a scary thought? But yes, I guess even I realised that one day I need to "end up" somewhere. I need to settle down. And it did feel very appealing to have my own place where my stuff could rest, my books, my things. Where I'd create my own little world.
So I sat on a train from Kerala to Karnataka in the south of India, with my travel companion golden shining Giulio from Tuscany. I looked out the window and saw the golden shining landscape pass me by. The colors of India inspired my dreams as I created the vision for my future home.
It was to be in the south of Europe, on an island. An island with a traditional type of life, where western, modern life hadn't entered too heavily. The house was going to be a traditional white washed southern European house, and it would have a lot of pink bouganevilla and jasmine flowers. It would be surrounded by pine trees. I would have a room in the house with all my books, DVD's, movies, photographs, memories, stuff from travelling- and in this room I would sit and write.
Of course I would still travel, but this would be my home. Here, I'd be able to eat clean fresh foods. Watermelons freshly from the ground in August, figs freshly from the trees in September. Pomegranates and oranges, peaches and rosemary. A natural, still life scented by the pine trees.
In that vision, I did not place a husband and a child (or two). Somehow that was still unthinkable at that point in my life. That's a later addition, that happened as it happened.
But my life, as it is now, is not far from that vision. And yet, still- I feel incomplete.
I got what I wanted but there's a hole in my soul. An itch.
Has that hole always been there? The itch, yes.
Yes, I think so. That's why I couldn't ever sit still. That's why I had to keep on moving, moving, moving. To escape the hole inside. To scratch the itch.
Motherhood made me do it. It made me stop the movement. I had to. My child needs this stillness in time, he needs this routine, he needs his home as it is, he needs me to be there each and every day and to do things almost the same every day. It makes him feel safe and happy. And I am doing it, each and every day, without any hesitation. It happens naturally. He comes first, his needs first. My days circle around him and his needs.
I try and try to put down my iphone, to look away from the distraction that my computer provides, and just be with him in each moment, as he begins his journey in life. Each day for him is a huge experience of exploring and discovering. Each day for me should also be like that and I have so much to learn from him. I wish with all my heart that I would just stop this emptiness and longing for movement, as it's taking me away from this moment, taking me away from the magic of my child's explorations.
It pains me that I am like this. That I can't enjoy this moment. I asked for this. I created this. I am here now, and I am unable to enjoy it, as the emptiness inside me is screaming to get moving. It's so sad. My love for him is so huge. I wish it would be enough for my soul to be quiet, at least for now, during the few years of childhood that we have together.