Ambition
I’m an idealist. “Anything is possible if you believe” and “love conquers all” is my philosophy. As a kid I was determined to marry a poor man because I thought it would mean our love was purer. I bitterly regretted not being born a Mormon pioneer because I wanted to prove my religious conviction in the same dramatic, demanding way. My practical-minded mother shook her head at my romantic ideals many times.
As one might imagine my life-long goals were starry-eyed as well. It’s a sizeable list, these ambitious activities that I felt I was put on this earth to do. Here are some of them:
1) Write and direct films.
2) Write and publish books in the following genres: children’s literature, poetry, fiction, critical essays, and memoirs.
3) Win an Academy Award in acting, screenwriting AND directing.
4) Speak fluent French and Spanish.
5) Become the world’s greatest female guitar player. (I just never felt I could be as good as Eric Clapton. I was right.)
6) Have six children.
7) Become a storm chaser.
8) Star in a Broadway play.
9) Be a shepherd in northern England.
10) Win an Olympic gold meal in the 200 meter dash.
I could go on but the list is embarrassing enough.
Through the passage of time my ambitions have waned. Being a mother has played a big part in that. Basically, I’m tired. But let’s face it, my sons opening doors for me unprompted makes me as thrilled as I imagine winning an Olympic medal would. Ambitions change. Preparing a dinner my whole family will eat without complaint is now my pinnacle of success. And as I've already stated, I’m really tired.
I don’t belittle these humble domestic triumphs; I stand in awe of them. I've discovered that is where it's at. Those unplanned moments of parenthood where you find yourself witnessing your little human understanding something for the first time or showering you with a burst of spontaneous love-life doesn’t hold anything better than that. Not to mention parents love their kids but it is so nice to discover you like your kid. The more my kids grow the more I want to be around them. I only have so much time and stamina in me and these remarkable kids of mine get a fair share of it.
I am certainly not condemning the ambitious. I also am aware of how blessed I am to be able to stay home with my kids while my husband works. I’m glad there are people out there that want to innovate and build and explore the world. I am just finding that I'm happy to do my innovating and building and exploring in the walls of my home.
My little masterpieces.
Turns out I’m built for the quiet life. I’m quite the homebody. My introvertedness has deepened over the years to near hermit status. Why socialize when I can be cuddling with my family on the couch? I can find my favorite person, my husband, down the hall, lounging in bed, so why go anywhere else? Plus, at home, I don’t have to wear pants. Win/win.
My ambitions are not dead. There is still a strong drive to tell stories, to design, to express. I’m still determined to publish books and expand talents but my creativity doesn’t take me very far from home these days. I'm finally at peace that my idealistic goals are smaller scale now.
There was a time that I begrudged those who were doing all the things I could not because my pack of energetic children (three, not six, thanks very much) slowed me down. It's hard to write a miniseries or go on tour with Eric Clapton with kids running around (though somehow some heroic women seem to pull it off). Since being forced to slow down I've become acquainted with my limits and now I'm at peace with them. I tire easy and like the quiet. Here's what the quiet and slow life has given me: meandering walks as the leaves change, watching ermines frolic in the snow outside my window, coaching my sons soccer team. Today I find my domestic life holds all the creative spark and joy I want. For now. And thanks to my kids I have a good excuse to leave social obligations early, so I can finally take off these pesky pants.