"It is No Bad Thing to Celebrate a Simple Life"

In a fit of nostalgia, I recently re-read Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott. ( Marriage of first cousins, tendencies toward transcendental humanism, and moralizing aside, I have enjoyed these books since I first read them in fifth grade or so.  Sometimes you just need to read a children's book- preferably one written before the latest rage was defying authority, growing up too soon, and engaging in cut-throat warfare. )  At one point, the main character, Rose Campbell, confesses her envy that her dear friend and cousin are both making something of themselves, becoming famous for their talent.  She wishes she had some sort of genius that would make others admire her and win her glory.  Her wise Uncle points out, however, that she has different sort of talent that makes her dear to those around her: brightening the lives of her relatives and friends with kindness, generosity, and love.

I also recently watched a video (from a link from my friend Julie at Corner with a View) where a woman contrasted the happiness and success of a friend in a career to what she saw as her own success of a happy family.  She wondered why our society does not equally value a mother's success with that of a career woman.  Many woman "give up" one sort of ambition, that for fame, influence, or financial success, for the hope of raising a family and making a happy home.  This is often seen as a personal loss and can cause resentment and secret bitterness.

crazy

I sometimes have these same thoughts about what it would be like to be considered talented and successful, to have what the world considers worth having: fame, money, and marketable skills.  To be out there "doing something," "following my dreams," and "making something of myself."  When other women with careers or academic ambition ask me, "So what do you do?", I sometimes reply a little sheepishly, "I just take care of this guy right now."  There are days when I wonder what it would be like if I'd gone in for novel writing, teaching, or grad school, instead of mamahood.

But then I remember that motherhood is doing something, it is the constant care of bodies and soul.  I am making something, some of the most dear things in life: a happy home, cherished memories, a mind and soul receptive to truth.  I don't have any dream, ambition, or prospective career that could possibly compare with the hard work and ultimate reward of being a mama. Perhaps the "talents" I'm cultivating, from the practical ones like home-making to the spiritual ones like patience and compassion, seem old-fashioned and won't make a dime or a difference in the big old world, but they can bring happiness to the little circle of my family.

Mamas make the world a cleaner place, one bath a time

It is often hard to realize that we won't change the world, at least, not the way we might have wished when we were younger. The dream of heroism can die hard, especially in an idealistic mind like mine. To fight for the good, the true, and the beautiful is a noble thing and there are many called to do so, but it is also good to safeguard the things worth fighting for by nurturing the love of them in minds and hearts.

What is he doing?

When I first read The Lord of the Rings, I could not help admiring the character of Eowyn, who longs for action, who fights for what she loves.  I wanted to be a woman warrior, to take on evil and vanquish it.  Deep down, however, I realized I am really more of the hobbit type.  I don't have much use for exercise, violence, or trouble.  I much prefer good food, good friends, and good ale.  Like the Shire residents, I'd rather sing a drinking song than a war song, and would rather read a book under a tree than challenge a foe on the road.  Yet the simple life of the hobbits is what the great men like Aragorn and Gandalf are protecting.  Preserving and enjoying a simple life has as much value as defending it, just as admiring and caring for beauty can be as important as creating it.


I know I have gone about this in a rambling sort of way, but ultimately what I want to say is this:
 I may not be much in the eyes of the world.  I am poor, unemployed, unknown, and not particularly gifted in any art.  As a mother, however, I am blessed with the responsibility to create and preserve the joys of a simple life: healthy bodies and souls, an appreciation for goodness and truth, and the love of family and friends. If I do this I will consider myself very successful indeed.

Today is: the Feast of St. Joan of Arc

Finn is: Ten and a half months old
Mama is reading: The Hundred Foot Journey by Richard C. Morais