Tuesday, February 14, 2006

On Being Homemaker-ey

The above title comes from my daughter's comment on the last entry. She and I both explore dichotomies of our lives and the role/s of women in the 21st century. At times I feel a sense of confusion as I examine my own journey from full time homemaker to full time employed outside the home and now coming back home. When I'm baking bread, gardening and hanging laundry on the clothesline I wonder at times why it mattered so much for me to have a career.

But when I sit at my desk writing and thinking of the many contacts with the world beyond my home I've garnered in the past decade and a half, I waver. Which is right? I ask myself. Why did I ever "leave home?" Why did I work in an office for the better part of 15 years of my life? Why did I give myself passionately to organizations, causes, and institutions outside my four walls, only to come full circle back to where I started out?

The questions aren't easy to answer but they reflect a growing sensibility and recognition of my place in the world and the ways that place can shift, change and adapt over a lifetime that is still incomplete. I am really not the same person who baked Leora's whole wheat bread 15 years ago. Today, I've returned to doing some of the same things, but for different reasons and with a different outlook and changed perspectives.

I dropped out of college and married at age 19. I'd planned to major in home economics. But once I was married, I thought my life was settled. Then in the shifting sands of feminism and my quest for satisfaction, I soon came up short. My interest in writing and my desire to be part of something of value and significance beyond my own doorstep, drew me back to college where I majored in communication arts. The choice to study communication rather than literature was a decision based on my desire to leave academia with credentials that would land me a job and a paycheck--eventually.

I say "eventually" because it took me nine years to claim that diploma. I had too many interests--including kids and my part-time job editing the Ohio Evangel. In the process I phased out gardening, canning, and the clothesline. I also quit sewing and replaced my "homemaker-ey" skills with things such as desk-top publishing. (My supervisor called me a "pioneer" for this.) I got a little gray Honda Accord stick shift and started driving myself out into the world. It was a great ride--all of it except for the Algrebra which was a huge looming barrier that I finally broke through.

A decade working the the public mental health system was full of new people, places and social awareness--not to mention new friends and challenges. Toward the end of that decade I began to long for a different life. I was tired of being indoors; tired of being in my car; tired of the routines and requirements. One thing that had remained in all my wanderings was a desire to put my thoughts and experiences into words. Now I wanted that more than ever. I could envision a life I chose for myself. It was different than either of my former lives.

So I came back home to write. It seems perfect, except that I don't make much money at it. But money isn't everything. I'm fortunate to live in a family that can make it on one income. So many people don't have that luxury. I'm also fortunate to no longer live a time-starved life. I found out that isn't a good way to live when you're a contempletive person, and I am one. I thrive on the ability to breath fresh air whenever I need it and to arrange my days as I see fit.

The options available to both men and women today are reminiscent of the choices at Giant Eagle. Now, more than ever, it's important to choose. Maybe some of us need to limit ourselves to shopping the outside aisles. Every choice for one thing is a choice against many others. I now sometimes think the looming future will bring many of us back to something a simpler and more basic than the fast-paced lifestyles and rampant consumption of recent decades.

Simplicity and contentment are virtues. They are challenged constantly by advertisers pushing so many products I can easily live without. I don't regret the opportunities I've had, the resources I've gained and those I'm learning to live without. I needed to do every thing I ever said I needed to do. The common denominator (yeah, I can now use math words without feeling sick to my stomach!) is that each step of the way I've listened to my heart. Today I know better than I once did that my creative spirit is best served by doing the hands-on tasks of everyday life--a gift that became mine when I re-claimed the flexible schedule I value more than I once did.

Paying attention to the "heart" is a good thing to do on this Valentine's Day. Spirit, my "eatenbyseminary" daughter suggests in her comments, is a Holy Homemaker. Now there's a concept . . .Thanks "Lou" And, Happy Valentine Birthday to YOU!

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home