Yesterday I arrived home around five pm, after attending an event with my child.
Taking the dogs on a quick walk, I came back inside, started a homecooked meal, then switched over a load of laundry.
I noticed on the way to the laundry that the floor was dirty, so I grabbed the broom and swept.
I’d done the same thing that morning when I’d noticed the bathroom was messy. I stopped getting dressed, cleaned the counters, mirror and toilets and continued. The real dirt and grime would have to wait.
Most mornings, I wake up around four am. I’m out the door early, as well.
I’m tired. This is my life.
This is probably your life, too.
We all should be asking ourselves: Is this what we wanted out of our one life?
I’m willing to bet when you were a little girl, you weren’t thinking that one day you’d be sweeping floors and scrubbing down toilets, and working all day long outside the house, just to come home and work all night inside the house.
But maybe it was. Maybe you were one of those souls who never really asked for much. You dreamed of being a nurse, or a teacher or a dental hygienist. (I’m trying to think of the three or four jobs they told girls my age we could be back then.)
Or maybe you thought this was what you wanted. I know I did. I would have given anything for normalcy when I was young, just a small attempt at a tiny slice of the Perfect American Christian Life.
The house, the kids, the car, the steady job.
The beach vacations and the Church on Sunday.
There was a time I would have killed for normal, even as I tucked away the bigger dreams inside my heart. I’d once had dreams of an adventurous life.
I thought I would travel the world, eat good food, have great sex, interview amazing people, write cool stories. That was the dream. The long-long-faraway-probably-never-gonna-happen-anyway-so-I might-as-well-just-settle-for-normal dream.
Did you dream dreams like mine? Where did they go?
I’m beginning to think they were lost inside our body, hidden in our brains, tucked away in our souls.
They scream to come out as we’re waking up in the morning and slipping on the facade of this perfect, all-American life.
We know that things are right but not right, good but not good, and we can’t quite seem to be content.
So we choose tired, and we allow our bodies to scream out for what our mouths are too afraid to voice.
“I’m tired!” our body shouts as it aches to get out of bed in the morning.
“I’m discontent!” it shudders loudly as we slam the cabinet in the kitchen, frustrated that our kids can’t make their own breakfasts.
“Give me space!” it begs as we allow yet another outside commitment to take precedence over rest.
“I want freedom!” our body shouts inside as we spend one more weekend at the ballfields.
“Help!” it cries, settling into bed–finally–late in the night after all our work is done.
Alone in our bed, we want to cry, but we’re just too tired.
Let this be the season you finally embrace the truth of how you feel.
You are tired, and that’s okay.
Because maybe your body is attempting to tell you something:
Feed me well.
Take me places we’ve never been.
Stop being afraid.
Start living your one life.
See you soon,