LITTLE ROCK — Slowly, slowly the tectonic plates of our family life are moving, rearranging the map that has been me. A month after my youngest went to college, repercussions from this huge shift in the life of our family are still showing up. For me, this is uncharted territory.
And yet there are constants, including one that’s unexpected: After all these years, I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Soon, a new map must emerge, and a plan — a plan to do more of what I love. But what does a plan for doing what you love look like? Got me.
Most of my activities have always occurred around boundaries set by workload, writing and family (too often in that order, even now). It’s easy to say that family matters most, but in my experience a balanced life is a myth. More often it’s a constant juggling of needs weighted toward the best information we have at the time. Rarely is it the result of conscious decisions.
If we controlled those around us, that might be different. But we don’t, so the only solution I can think of is to live with joy.
Finances still drive major choices, even as family demands diminish. So the morning and evening commutes to work are thick with bouts of introspection. What, exactly, brings me joy? The old list is easy — spending time with my family, having great conversations, finding antiques and vintage treasures, yard work, reading, working with the sheep at the farm, changing the world — but finding time to do these things? Not so easy.
The creative energy that dissipated over the last few years is coming back. And it’s restless.
Suddenly, there’s an intense need for things to look different, as if the outward manifestation of the plan needs to come first, to reassure me that the change can be real. The result is that my home is undergoing constant rearranging. As familiar things are moved or put away, rearranging our nest feels like shedding the old self. Even the house is eager for something new.
From earlier bouts of restless redesign, it’s clear that for me outward change can support inward growth. Change the environment, change how it all looks, and you change the people in it. Sure enough, lists of chores and projects are getting crossed off. Things that have hovered in clutter for years are being cleaned up and sorted through.
With each redesign of some external aspect of my life, there’s more freedom. And with freedom comes responsibility. What happens now? It’s my responsibility to figure that out. If my life is too serious, it’s up to me to get happy. If it feels like all I do is work, and it often does, then it’s up to me to play more.
What does my map look like now? At this point, the goal is to live well, with spirit, positivity and purpose. To uplift as many of my sisters and brothers as possible, and to do so in a lasting and significant way. To surround my family with unconditional love and inspire them to be their best and most fulfilled selves.
These are worthy goals. This is a good life. If along the way I can go beyond that and make a lasting difference that changes some part of the world, well ... who could ask for more joy than that?
This is my new map. Each of us has a similar chart, a history of the internal countries we’ve visited, the emotional landmarks that guided our course, and the relational bridges that had to be crossed.
Some journeys are easier than others. Regardless of the terrain, it’s the traveler who keeps moving. No matter what comes at us, we choose the destination and let the map emerge.
Write to Jennifer Hansen at Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, P.O. Box 7, Springdale, Ark. 72765. Email her at:
Family, Pages 34 on 09/26/2012