In so many ways I am too old. I'm not sure when that changed. Most of my life I was too young.
Then in that brief season, when I was perfectly capable I had my children. And just when I should have found myself, I had another.
And life took me, in its march of time and regret, and care about how I looked, and what others thought of me.
I bowed low to expectations, need, and demand.
Somewhere, in all of the living, I died a quiet death; shut up in the corners of my mind.
Now here, much older than I wish to be. I find the heartbeat of youth, still wishing to be free.
Longing to be something more. To be, dare I say it.... real.
I have dressed the part, served the committees, planned the festivals, organized homework, and made lunches. I clean around the toilets on my hands and knees. Each night I serve a hot dinner for our little family. I have coached soccer, sat through hours of dance classes, and chauffered my children from one activity to another. The mom card is full.
I smile, quiet. Listen to their chatter, but not really hearing or paying attention.
The motions have become me. I have fit into this role like all little girls are raised to believe they should.
From deep within, I long for the wild, the free. To fill my house with exuberance. To love all that enter our doors, and welcome neighbor, stranger, friend.
But we are a culture of separation. Hidden behind our devices. Lost in the entertainment of others who play out their lives in glistening color.
What can we do and what can we bring, to inspire delight. To stir up the depths of joy. To live unified.
Our lives are boring. We live, we birth, we raise, we die. And for some, we love.
And I have loved.
Deeply and passionately. I have lost myself to this act of loving. I have sacrificed my dreams, my bliss, on the alter of loving.
And here, in the middle, in my age, and in my season of growing this family - I find myself desperate - longing for more.
I cannot live another moment content to watch from the sidelines. To observe the creativity of so many others. For too long, I have stood silent. Wringing my hands. Distraught that beauty was never a subject in which I excelled.
I find myself sifting through the unsearched depths of my soul. Deep within there is a hunger to live a life without shame or compromise. To seek out and discover the girl I quieted in her youth. To realize the true meaning of a life worth living. And perhaps to even be brave enough to live it.