Remember that 1977 one-hit wonder, "I've Never Been to Me"?

It was made popular by an artist named Charlene. I'm struck again by how empty and sad the song is, when I hear it (as I did just this morning in Shrek 3). I felt compelled to go look up the lyrics and the song is even lonelier than I had realized. I've Never Been to Me is a woman's lament of warning to avoid exercising your freedom, your power, and ending up with no satisfaction or contentment. On the one hand, ye-es, but on the other hand... Still, I suppose this is one of the issues I have been wrestling with (turned on its ear, as ever for me!) Is it time to start writing again...? Well... I guess that's why I'm here. I find myself now with some time on my hands during the day, and some need for the unique processing writing affords me. The kids are almost 3 1/2 and almost 1 1/2. They often play with each other and entertain themselves... It's better than great! I need a lot of time for myself, and have been severely deficient in it for years. I find myself ready to start writing for personal growth again-- not just the At My Wit's End writing I've been doing for so long. It's a really nice space to occupy! This blog was originally about my thoughts and feelings, particularly motherhood deeeeeep in the trenches; while motherhood still occupies a great deal of my time, I am delighted to find I still exist not only as a mother, a wife and keeper of the hearth. My memories of the past are surfacing, which is unsurprising due to the personal growth I've been doing-- and it's exciting, actually, since there was so much of my past unaccessible to me. The reason why, of course, is because there is a lot of pain associated with those memories, so there is much processing to be done, grief to express, rage to decant. It's work I'm committed to, though, and thus the result will be mine as well. Without this work, or similar efforts, a life like mine-- full of kids, diapers, laundry, dinner, bills, budgets and with almost no time to myself-- would feel incredibly unfulfilling, I think. I totally get why women choose to work outside the home and put kids in daycare (like, a paycheck, duh!); it's a serious grind being at home all day with kids, subject to all their needs, desires and stages of growth. It doesn't come at all naturally for me (other than the staying in pajamas part), and I've found it very depressing sometimes. Amazingly, though, working through some of these feelings about the past leaves a sheen of lightness on everything. Where pain and fear once huddled, now lives gratitude, contentment, serenity. Sometimes I feel as light as a soap bubble-- like I [somewhat] remember feeling occasionally as a child. As for I've Never Been to Me... well, I'm fortunate to have had both what Charlene cautions against-- and what she longs for. I wouldn't have had it any other way.