I'm in Bali, lounging on the couch in our villa. It's a perfect day, by all measures. The sun is reflecting off of the pool, casting an indigo haze, and a slight breeze is rustling the palm leaves before it pushes through the outdoor living room. I should be drinking it up, basking in the glory of vacation in a foreign wonderland, but instead a familiar angst is setting in.
I can feel the dissatisfaction for my current life stewing. It's always there, this desire for change. I struggle with knowing what the actual origins of my longing are. Am I unfulfilled in my present circumstances because I'm not yet pursuing my life purpose? Of course, there is purpose in parenting, but if I'm being honest with myself, on most days the responsibility renders me feeling more like a housekeeper and short order cook than anything else. I'm good at it, I love my children, they bring me joy, but it doesn't fill the angles of me that exist outside of being a mother.
I tell myself that my time will come, just a few more years until my youngest two are independent enough for me to invest less coddling into them and use that excess for pursuing personally fulfilling endeavors, but I'm scared that I'm fooling myself. Things will be busy in new ways, less ass wiping, more chauffeuring. More excuses to put things off, and then I'm pushing 60, and I haven't done shit. It's passed me by. Sure, 60 is the new 40, but how many 60 year olds are out there realizing dreams and pushing themselves beyond their comfort zones? They've moved beyond that season. Excitement is of a different, safer, more relaxed variety.
When I start to feel this discontent brewing, I search for opportunity to make a shift, something to temporarily camouflage the void. Let's buy a fixer upper, let's live in an RV, let's sell it all and move to Italy, let's buy a vacation rental, and most currently, of course, let's move to Bali for six months. But, is this about seeking out excitement, or is this about distracting from the fact that I'm not fulfilled, searching for anything to satiate the hunger, when ultimately, another exciting venture will have to take the place of the last. We've lived in four houses, and remodeled three of them, in the last six years. The shifts are never enough. Moving to Bali means the same problems in a different location. Still a parent, still asses to wipe, and mouths to feed. Still no time.
I have justifications for wanting change, too. The American dream and the accompanying idea of success leave me feeling dispirited. It's dull, and supposes that joy and pleasure come only with lots of time, very hard work, and a chunky 401k. I want to enjoy my life now. I do want to expose my children and myself to different cultures, different lifestyles, different geographies, but does one have anything to do with the other? Until I fill up the things that are lacking within my soul, all of those aspirations still won't be enough. They'll be magical, and they aren't off the table, but something else needs to be the main course, or else Mama's always going to be hungry.
I'm a firm believer that the universe supports our endeavors when there is a soul's longing and a clear intention. You create what you give energy to. During the last few years, I've been pouring through writings of people who are the architects of their own destinies. They are purpose driven. Excitement oozes from them. Mindful+ Mama is one step towards personal satisfaction. With clear vision and motivation, I intend to push on, my path slowly revealing itself amidst the brush and overgrown foliage that life's day to day distractions place in front of me.