My birthday was last week, so I suppose a fresh year is what has me mulling over my literal and figurative place in the world. I was able to celebrate my birthday this year with Eli and Brian, but also my brother and many other Georgia family members. I feel wiggly grateful to live in my hometown again. On top of all that, my birthday week was cozy and exhilarating.
Huh?
Yeah, I know. Cozy and exhilarating aren't often used together. But it was a rainy week and my mothering/writing life means that I can be at home on a dark winter's morning. This, too, is something I feel grateful for. It has its price; working from home can be isolating. I find for myself, though, that this is the way I work best. I put in an hour or two on a writing project, all concentration. When I need a break, puttering around the house and doing things with my hands helps me find perspective and balance. I wash dishes, take a fitness walk, or tidy the house. Sometimes I stop and take photos for a blog entry or read for a few minutes. Soon I get back to writing or research. There are times that it takes cracking the whip on myself to sit back down at my desk, yet on other days I'm so absorbed I forget to eat lunch. This sort of will o' the wisp, up and down multitasking is much better for my creativity, yet isn't the way most businesses and organizations function. I am thankful for my workday freedom.
Eli being in preschool on weekday mornings and my flexible schedule also gives me time to do research outside the house. Last week the definition of research meant exploring antique stores. I write about common people and everyday lives, so poking around at Great Depression-era kitchenware or sifting through somebody's World War II ration books gives me ideas, teaches me about the past, and sends me off in new research directions. On Tuesday I was extraordinarily lucky, coming home with a treasure I spent a mere dollar on that may very well inspire my next writing project. Sorry to be mysterious here, but I'm not ready to share the actual idea yet with the world. Let me just say, though, that once I reached home with said object, I was plunged into happy, absorbed online research for hours.
Admittedly, despite the fact that I have an actual book contract, my writing isn't a money-generator yet. (What a hopeful statement!) I know it is my husband's support -- both financial and emotional -- that allows me to do what I am doing. At the same time, I've worked very hard to be here. Not only is our marriage and parenting a working partnership, but in addition I've paid my dues in terms of two decades' worth of education and traditional working life. All these pieces are the real-world underpinnings of being a stay-at-home mom and writer. But there are more emotional or even soulful considerations as well.
My father was one of those lucky people who adored his work. A geologist and invertibrate paleontologist, he'd hurry off to the office an hour after arriving home from vacations and sometimes in quiet moments he'd suddenly mutter out loud, writing scientific papers in his head. Not long before he died, I asked him what it was about his work as a researcher and college professor that he liked so much. He reply, served up with a grin, was, "All of it."
Dad's example was a lot to live up to, but I hoped to find a career I liked as well as he liked his. After serving four years in the Air Force, he made a bee line for a career in Geology and never let go of the goal. For me, it has been a bit different. Instead of a bee line, it was more like wandering woodland trails, trying to reach a mountain seen in the distance. I stayed on a particular trail -- art teacher, librarian, or archivist -- until I sensed I was no longer moving closer to that mountain and needed a change.
With my last regular 8AM-to-5PM job, I worked at an archives but primarily supported the needs of teachers/students and created informational programs for the public. It was exciting and satisfying, which I realized was largely because I was able to use skills from along my whole career path. I might have stayed in that job for the rest of my career, but then I met Brian and knew I'd have to relocate to make the marriage work. My job was an unusual one that I couldn't find just anywhere, yet I'd begun to have the creeping feeling that the mountain was looming above me. As much as I loved that job, I was now quite close to having the skills and know-how I needed to actually scale the mountain -- work on my own projects and live the writing life.
Last week was a time of reflection to appreciate the journey, to be glad of the leaps of faith it took to make changes, and to be grateful where I am.
Just for fun...
My interests have led me to where I need to be and help me choose which writing projects to take on. But if life was a bit longer, I might have had nine career lives like a strange, workaday cat. If your career had nine lives, what would you be?
1. Writer
2. Art therapist
3. Archivist specializing in family papers
4. Photographer (magazine and publication work)
5. English professor specializing in children's literature (1860s - 1960s)
6. Children's librarian
7. Pastry chef
8. Historian focusing on the South
9. Folklorist of southern culture
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