I read this sentence this week on the lovely site from Flow-Magazine. (Love the magazine and all the stuff they make!). Anyway: the sentence struck me, because I have to admit that inside of me there is this 'person'. I guess it's a She. She's kinda nice, but also kinda strict. She's pretty concerned with how other people think of her. She is especially outspoken about how the household needs to be done. How tidy it must be, how clean and all. How I can use my time very efficiently!
My grandmother knew her well, my mother knows her very well, and my stepmother doesn't know who she is apart from her. So it is not just a genetic thing, probably a lot has to do with upbringing. But she is here sometimes, looking a bit like this:
Wanting me to be like this:
But often I try and find myself to be like this:
Even though I worry quiet often: "do I spend enough time with my children? Is my daughter infected with the household virus by now or do I have some time left to change things around? What do I want to teach her when growing up? What does she see when she looks at me?" Both my daughters can play very well on their own.
On the one hand, I see this as a good thing. They feel comfortable with themselves and can concentrate easily and always find something to do, even if it is just moving their hands through the sand watching the clouds. (Mmmm, can you remember what that felt like when you were little? It felt so good, those endless days and skies.).
On the other hand I wonder whether they withdraw in their own world, cuz mommy is busy cleaning. Like this afternoon: my (almost) 4 year old and I just played one game. This made me feel guilty. I do try to draw her into helping me. This afternoon it worked well, because she wants to be Cinderella when she grows up. "And Cinderella cleaned a lot before she met her prince!" Honestly her words, not mine!
It is hard for me to keep calm. To notice the 'voice' inside of me and accept her. Not to be mistaken with agreement. I find myself sometimes literally talking to 'her'. "I hear you, and yes it is a mess, and yes my mother would never have such a household, but I am not my mother, and I try to be more 'in the moment' and play with my children." Slowly and reluctantly she accepts my arguments. She is relaxing a bit every now and then. But God, this process is hard!!!!
So what does it cost me? The need for efficiency?
But often I try and find myself to be like this:Even though I worry quiet often: "do I spend enough time with my children? Is my daughter infected with the household virus by now or do I have some time left to change things around? What do I want to teach her when growing up? What does she see when she looks at me?" Both my daughters can play very well on their own.
On the one hand, I see this as a good thing. They feel comfortable with themselves and can concentrate easily and always find something to do, even if it is just moving their hands through the sand watching the clouds. (Mmmm, can you remember what that felt like when you were little? It felt so good, those endless days and skies.).
On the other hand I wonder whether they withdraw in their own world, cuz mommy is busy cleaning. Like this afternoon: my (almost) 4 year old and I just played one game. This made me feel guilty. I do try to draw her into helping me. This afternoon it worked well, because she wants to be Cinderella when she grows up. "And Cinderella cleaned a lot before she met her prince!" Honestly her words, not mine!
It is hard for me to keep calm. To notice the 'voice' inside of me and accept her. Not to be mistaken with agreement. I find myself sometimes literally talking to 'her'. "I hear you, and yes it is a mess, and yes my mother would never have such a household, but I am not my mother, and I try to be more 'in the moment' and play with my children." Slowly and reluctantly she accepts my arguments. She is relaxing a bit every now and then. But God, this process is hard!!!!
So what does it cost me? The need for efficiency?
- it costs me the ability to 'stay in the moment'
- it costs me the ability to really feel. Whether it is the wind or some restlessness or whatever, it can be anything, but at least it is real!
- it costs me the ability to lean back, to just kick back, and experience time a lot more like my kids do.
- it costs me the ability to just loaf around (lantefanteren in Dutch) and ENJOY IT!
