The problem with deep thinking is that you think deep thoughts, at least I do. Deep thoughts can be the thoughts that inspire. I love it when that happens. I wish all of my deep thoughts were like that. Other deep thoughts can unearth our deepest fears, our deepest feelings of inadequacy, and when those are the deep thoughts being thunk (I can make up words, this is my space, wait, I just looked it up, it’s a word), it’s so easy to be consumed with fear, anxiety, and utter hopelessness, at least it is for me.
What am I doing?Why can’t I get this right?Are my efforts all in vain?Are my words falling on deaf ears?How many times am I going to make the same mistake?What have I gotten myself into?Am I really doing my best?What if I’m not?Maybe I’m really just lazy.Maybe I don’t have anything better in me to give.Maybe it doesn’t even matter.
Except, it does. It does matter. What I do matters. What I say matters. What I think matters. I am a Mother. I am shaping little lives, little hearts, little souls, all day, every day, no matter what I do. I can shape them poorly or I can shape them well. I can stand by and let the world shape them, and yet, if it happens on my watch, while they’re under my roof and in my care, then it’s really me shaping them, by merely allowing the world to shape them.
Passive parenting will not do.
I have never thought that it would, and yet, as I think about my days, I can find times and ways in which my actions betray a lack of purpose, a lack of intention. It’s not my best, and while I know that no one can actually be their very best in every situation in every moment (I’m pretty sure the only man who ever did was Jesus, the rest of us are fallen), I still believe the best should be my goal. To do my best should still be my purpose, my intention. And it is.
Sometimes I just need to remind myself. Sometimes I just need a good cry, and then I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, maybe do a jumping jack or two to get the bloop pumping good and strong again, and then I need to get up and get back in the game, with renewed purposed, and reignited intentions. That’s where I am this weekend.
I grew up always hearing that the Peace Corps was “the toughest job you’ll ever love”. I never volunteered with the Peace Corps, but I’m pretty sure that this job, Motherhood, is a tougher job, and no matter how much I may have loved time in the Peace Corps, I know I love Motherhood more.