I do sometimes wish I didn’t have this need to deconstruct and understand what feels like everything.
It would be so easy to just fall into motherhood and baking and running this insane household of 7. Especially because I love it. I feel beyond blessed and have found incomprehensible joy from motherhood and all it’s responsibilities. It’s second nature to me. I know I was made for this and I am so grateful to be blessed this way.
But, if I could just shut off the seeker in me, it would be easier to “find time” to socialize and catch up and be a better friend. Things I also long for and to be.
Yet, this piece of me (and it’s such an overwhelmingly enormous piece) seems to desire near-constant excavation. I am always digging for deeper understanding, deeper meaning, deeper remembrance. And it craves silence to explore.
So, calls, texts, emails— they often go unreturned for days because silence is a luxury I’m rarely afforded. And when it is offered up to me, I grab on with both hands and funnel down the rabbit holes that were patiently waiting at the back of my mind all day long during the diaper changes and meal planning and playing referee to opposing siblings and listening to worries and stories about Fortnite and folding the constant stream of laundry and the sweeping and the mopping and the dishes (we do not have a dishwasher for our family of 7!) and on and on it goes.
The funny thing is, I’ve always been like this. I remember moving into the dorms in college and meeting a group of guys (who would eventually become my nearest & dearest during those first years of freedom— also leading to meeting Adam), who invited me and my 2 roommates on a hike to the waterfalls. It was 80 degrees, sun shining— these boys were tan, with long hair and lean bodies, honestly, just beautiful all around— and, surprise! I declined! Because I had it in my mind that I would go to the library to check out The Prophecies of Nostradamus and this mental exercise and theory trumped any and all things in that moment. My spirit demanded it. And I obliged.
Still, my spirit yearns. I often say I am “forever a student” because there’s something indescribable surrounding learning and exploring. It’s peace. It’s intrigue. Outside of the love of family, earth, God— it’s the best part of being human. This puzzle, this puzzle I can’t explain that always leads to more questions feeds a fire in my soul that will never stop radiating heat.
And I just.... I don’t know what it means or says about me. When I forgo a phone conversation to study, I fear it makes me selfish. There’s a veil for a reason, yes? Is the desire to seek beyond it taking this life for granted? Do I leave my loved ones feeling unimportant? Oh lord, I hope not. Because I do care. And I want to be there. And I usually am, especially when it counts. But, at the end of a long day— a day often spent caring for everyone else’s needs— it’s part of returning to myself when I take the time to explore. To just be me, as I’ve always been, down a rabbit hole— remembering.