I have to admit that I find motherhood taxing. To be really truly honest, I find life quite taxing. I am an introvert and I adore alone time. I understand the appeal of being a hermit. I have a secret wish to one day become a sadhu. Suburban motherhood does not exactly give you the means to wander off alone in contemplation, but I've found a substitute that isn't too shabby. When my kids are high on life and the house looks like an insurance ad featuring a natural disaster, I like to put on a record (preferably James Taylor's Greatest Hits) and lie down upon the floor. I call this act rotting on the ground. I let my head empty of all thoughts no matter what chaos is unfolding around me. I meditate on the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston and nothing else seems to matter. It's like mentally crawling into a void and it is very refreshing. Once I've had my fill of nothingness, I can return to the shrieking and the clutter. I can put on the soundtrack to Flashdance and become Alex Owens for my kids. I am not a serene person and I'm not one for prayers, but somehow tranquility and spirituality can find you prone on the ground listening to the familiar scratching of vinyl.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
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