Bath salts, essential oils, eucalyptus and spearmint soap and I’m taking a relaxing soak. To draw the stress toxins (that nasty cortisol) out of my body, to try to realign my spirit, self, mind, emotions. I want this bath to be a step out of time, purely pleasure and restorative, purely sensory.
It’s not. (Most of you, I’m sure, were already laughing before the end of the paragraph: of course, it’s not, girl! That would be too easy!) I think about taking a week off of work this week, a whole week to be free, a slip of a woman, going in and out of my home, doing what I want, spending time with E, having to time for “activities of daily living” and enjoying those activities of daily living. Planting flowers and weeding. Finishing 1Q84 and starting on the Hunger Games. Trying out all the Pinterest projects that I have backlogged: perfect-fit-waistband-for-jeans, clean-the-house-with-vinegar, all-day-cake-recipe, organize-your-toddler’s-closet…. Quitting my job and starting a free-lance career (sigh, but not in that particular order).
My thoughts seemed very profound in the bath, even life-changing. Like I could be renewed. I thought: I’m healed and I’m healing, both are true. Both seemed very possible in the bath. I love my life and I want more in my life. My life can be shalom. A vision I’ve had of my adult life is this:
large farmhouse or cabin on a hill out in the country, a home office that overlooks the woods at the bottom of the hill and a kitchen sink that overlooks our small (very small) farm. My husband and I are outside (I don’t know, maybe unloading groceries, raking and mowing, putting down mulch) and start to run around with our children. And then the sun begins to set and we go inside for dinner. Something a little like this: Furr.
The end.
(We can all agree, right, that this vision is sentimental and utopian? Okay. Instead of a vision, then, let’s call it a glimpse. Or context. A space my husband and I can create in which to “raise our children up as gently as we please,” to at least attempt to live a life in balance and wholeness.)
But then I have to get out of the bathtub, put on my ratty robe and go about the rest of the evening, otherwise known as living. Gulp down my now cold herbal tea, attempt to do some house work, attempt to do some blogging in the midst of toddler, cat, partner and TV, be sure to prepare clothes, lunch, and schedule for tomorrow.
And it’s already changed, that profound time is already gone, I’m out of the tub and out of that time, no longer that woman. The oh so profound thoughts now seem more like titles from the self-help bestseller’s list. The night is gone. Tomorrow is another day.
What do I do with my vision (er, glimpse)? My life–wonderful as it is–is somewhat willy-nilly. I’m making it work until what I want comes along or money drops into my lap from somewhere and I get to pursue what I want. I’ve never been a 5-year-life-plan type of person; I barely even plan my weekends well. But I’m now at a point in life (read: I don’t like my job and what it does to me and my family) where I need to make the decision.
What do I do with this vision for my life? I guess I make a life-plan and work really hard at it…right? Things to do:
- eliminate stressors
- take better care of my whole self
- quit my job (…wait, no, not quite, can’t do that yet. Get therapy to help me deal with my job.)
- invest in friendships
- prioritize life around my family
- figure out how to make money as a writer
- hmmm, clean my house? (just throwing this in for good measure)
- um…work out (for real?)
- er, take supplements (In case the whole “take better care of self” thing doesn’t work out and I remain an emotional eater, which is a nice way of saying I eat crap when I’m stressed and lately I’m always stressed)
- go to bed early (But then how do I get all of the above accomplished?)
- or, yes, here it is: drink heavily.
So not a plan so much as a goal…or not even a real goal, but something to strive for, right? How does one embark on a new plan, path, journey, life? Having just read the titles of self-help books and not the books themselves, I have no idea (like this one: No Excuses: 9 Ways Women Can Change How We think About Power or this one: The Custom-Fit Workplace: Choose When, Where and How to Work and Boost Your Bottom Line).
Instead, I’m just complaining about it all in a blog post. And seriously hoping that you have ideas.
It's Pretty to Think So 
Let’s all buy farm land on old route 40. Very senic, very family roots. Love you and you will do it — whatever “it” turns out to be!!
That would be lovely. When do we begin?