Every day is a new birth. Every thought is the beginning of possibilities. There is hope and positivity in every second of everyday. Inception is, actually, easy. What is hard is the afterwards, the later-on, the middle of every battle.
I am now, in what can safely be called, the beginning of almost everything. My marriage is inching towards the seven year itch, and hoping it will go on for a long time. The kids are in kindergarten. I still feel a novice in the kitchen, and it always feels like my first day at the job whilst juggling the mundane chores, everyday.
Yet, there are moments, hours, days, when the tedium, the sheer repetetiveness of everyday gets demoralising. Telling myself that had I been an editor, I would be doing pages or issues over and over like every other job is not making me feel better anymore.
What has happened, I feel, is that I have reconciled to the nasty truth that I will not be working outside the house ever. Sure, everyone tells me that being a teacher is the best for me. I don't want to be around kids 24X7. God knows I am with kids, about kids, for kids all the time, just that they are mine and they are just two, so there really is nothing to feel great about.
Financial independence is not as enticing as the fact that I need to interact with adults, take on some responsibility and feel good at the end of the day that I have not neglected myself or the kids and chores.
But, what's scaring me at the moment is that I have yet to reach the middle with the plodding without results nowhere in sight, self-doubts and those of the path chosen and the call for higher qualities of patience and perseverance and faith. I cannot decide between wanting to see the future and marching into it unknowingly, unwaveringly.
I am sure by then, I will not have the courage to start again. No way, and let all these years go waste! The way I am, I think I'll just pick up the burden, adjust their weight so I am as comfortable as I can be under the circumstances and continue the journey.
There will be new friends cheering me on and old friends standing by me, strenghtening me, giving me solace. The 'middle' might not be the most pleasant place, but I would be less confused, more focused and experienced, and much more contained.
Giving birth is easy, not just because I had two C-sections. You are buoyed by anticipation and high on expectations. But, when the charm of mystery is gone and reality stares at you and ages of it, really, it takes much more than courage and strengh of character to look it back and give it all.
Wishful thinking? A girl's gotto dream :)