My new business cards arrived in the mail today, and with them the glimmer of hope that all this hard work is beginning to come full circle.
Okay, maybe what’s just been served up is a triangular chunk of the circle. But being that not too long ago I was using a trail of breadcrumbs as my GPS, I’m more than happy to claim this delicious little slice as a triumph.
Allow me to explain.
Some of you know that my hope for this blog was to create a space where the heretofore splintered factions of my life might live together in some sort of cohesive state. And that maybe a bit of this peaceful cohabitation would rub off on the other 23 hours of the day that I am not in front of my computer happily blogging.
This too was the hope for my new business cards, where I listed my five websites side by side, in conceptual harmony. Conceptually. In concept.
See, every morning begins with the best of intentions to negotiate a path between the roles listed on that card. Can I get the kids out of the house without a tantrum, make it to the PTA meeting on time, maximize productivity at the studio (can we say YAY office assistant!), muster up some creative energy to pour into illustrating and commissions, shuttle the kids to whatever extra curricular is on the menu for the day, cook a meal that is some color other than tan on tan, and maybe, just maybe scrub a baby wipe across my kids’ faces before bedtime?
Not usually. Most often, despite this intention, my to-do list ends up looking like a sorority sister on spring break in Cancun; roving wildly down the beach, dropping stuff in the sand here or there either because it’s slipped her mind, or because it’s no longer exciting anymore. Or, as is usually the case for me, because there’s just not enough emotional space for it. And for the record, no, I was not in a sorority.
The point of it all is that this, my pretty, was the old me. Because with the birth of this blog (begin tiny circle), and the arrival of my business cards (end tiny circle) I have reached a very definitive point in my career. A point where life can, generally, live in goodwill with itself.
I’ve accepted that there are only 24 hours in the day, but also know that in the wee hours of the morning the house is just quiet enough for me to finish what the daylight hours won’t allow. That there’s no one other than myself who can grant me permission to follow a vision. And that some days this all has to stop so that I can just be mommy…even though there wasn’t space for that title on the business card.