I’ve been having some what of an identity crisis lately. It’s been three years in the making. You see I’m an artist, I need to create, to put charcoal to paper or paint to canvas. I need to create music on my guitar and play undisturbed until my tank has been filled. But when I pursue these things they overwhelm me to the exclusion of all else…and that used to be a wonderful thing. I could lose myself for hours and come out the other end satisfied and brimming with energy to take on daily life. I have two children now, suddenly time for myself has become like a fleeting interval to the great musical that is motherhood.
There’s time. Sure I can sit on the computer and write a blog post…even if listening to ‘The magic school bus’ playing the background hampers my ability to think and write clearly! There’s time to read messages on my phone or check Facebook, to sit down and enjoy a coffee whilst fending off a one year old. But there is no time to relax into a creative trance, one that I know can be broken at any moment by a toddler yelling “poo coming!” And maybe I could squeeze in a moment here or there on the weekend or in the evening, but whatever I set up (and my painting space gets a bit wild) must be packed away before dawn…there’s no week long project space in our house.
I know I’ll navigate these waters, I have hope my creativity will adapt to motherhood, my children will grow and exposed paints or charcoal will no longer tempt their inner decorators. For now I have to find small victories. Renovating projects, experimenting with dinners or writing. I wish I could philosophise my way through this, encourage with a testimony and answer to prayer, but I’m just not there yet. This phase of life is thoroughly immersed in two little people, whom I love! But gosh it’s hard some days.