Monday, October 8, 2012

Home Therapy

I'm wired to find contentment in accomplishment. On the best days of my life accomplishment has been defined by giving birth, figuring out how to speak to a child in Honduras in shabby almost non-existent Spanish, and trying to reconcile the deep emotional chasm I experienced laughing with my 13-year-old daughter as we wound the back streets of a Filipino village on a "tricycle" only to be dropped off at our first home visit. Just steps from the tricycle we entered poverty like I'd never experienced before. In my life filled with so many gifts, my best days have included every day of directing Twin Rocks Girls Camp and driving hundreds of miles per day on our family's "real road trip" in 2007. The kids and Alan have decided that our trip by van to Colorado Springs this summer does not qualify as a "road trip" but only a "destination trip." I dare not argue. What matters to me and what my patterns show is that children, family, and relationships are always at the heart of my best days.

Of course checking off the daily "to do" list brings a sense of accomplishment as well. Today that list included four loads of laundry, a stack of ironing, and tackling the file of last year's school papers. All-in-all a good day...but not nearly as exciting as a Compassion sponsor tour or a new baby. Exciting - no...Therapeutic - yes. My amazingly flexible work schedule allows for days when I need to simply be: h o m e. Perhaps it's the "stay-at-home" mom in me that needs these respites. Days where the kids are off at school and the house is quiet. I know that someday soon, ok in 6 years, the house will always be quiet. There won't be a 2:45pm deadline till the whirlwind (aka: youngest daughter) blows through the door. But that is a whole other post...when I'm feeling even more wistful than I am today. Even for this bonafide extravert, I breathe deep the stillness of the house and the freedom to get things done without distraction.

If I look even deeper into the need for "home therapy" I come up with one word and it's not so pretty and peaceful: Control. I battle everyday with a desire to do it all well. I simply cannot. At home I attack the pile of ironing and I win. I clear off the desk and I win. At least for today. For a few hours. Mini-victories. These things in the quiet I can control. Of course there are other things that have been left undone today. And these nag at me. I tell satan to knock it off and try to focus on the positive. Come On...this is therapy for goodness sake.

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