We live in Maine. I’ve lived here over ten years. I have created, and been nurtured by an amazing community of loving friends, and engaging colleagues a few miles from the ocean, yards from a thriving small city, and a half hour drive from breathtaking wilderness. I came here after nearly a decade in Manhattan. I needed to down shift, to feel like a big fish in a small pond, to slow down. I came here to start my family. But, is this where I want to raise my family? I didn’t realize that there would be a distinction between these two life stages for me. Have others felt that way too?
We have been supported beyond belief from the moment I made public my decision to adopt. Weeks before Sam was born, a surprise baby shower greeted me at the school where I still work. Then, when I announced the rather unconventional way in which my family was increasing by one (Marcel was donor conceived) the principal didn’t blink. Sam starts kindergarten next fall, and the baby is two. The state motto here is; “The Way Life Should Be.” Unless, you think that you might be living on the wrong coast, for example.
A sense that all of me would show up in the picture frame, if I set out for the promised land (of sorts) is at the center of my recent, and formidable unrest. A belief that for me to be the best mom, educator, friend, community member, writer and poet I can, I need to live in a place that can hold more of those things simultaneously. Does such a place exist? Where I am now, owing either to it’s size, climate, or demographics does not hold that for me, for us, in the ways that we need. It is changing, and I am part of that change. But, is that where my work is best served? How do I answer that?
Even with the amazing chosen family we have here, I often feel profoundly lonely. Is that a reflection of my internal workings, or where I live? Will I find many other mothers/families like ours somewhere else? Is this just about being unpartnered? I don’t think so. But, what about love? It’s not that I think I’ll fall madly in love the moment I move. But wouldn’t I have a better chance with that too, if I felt that I had more room on the dance floor to show what I really got? Will, following my “bliss,” or my dream, help draw more of the same to us? Is my constant vigilance here, off putting to others? Do people fear the crusader? Or do I have so many defenses up all the the time, I wouldn’t know prince charming if he ran over me with a lobster boat?
One part of our mini urban garden, a triangle about 1/8th of the plot gets full on sun for more than an hour. All the plants that need sun go there. I feel like that is how we live too. Like I am constantly rushing about to find that 1/8th of sun in the AME Zion church on Sunday, on the playground near that other family that kind of looks like ours, or as I push our cart behind the cart of the mixed family I have been stalking in the grocery store. Behind them at the check out I want to yell; “Are you happy here? Is 1/8th enough for you?” I seek out the community I can’t find here, on the internet. But you exist in real places. You have homes outside of your computer. You could be our neighbors. Is the grass always greener, or is there a place where that 1/8 will feel more like 1/2 or 3/4?
So, how do you do it? How do mothers make decisions, the BIG LIFE decisions that will impact not just you, but you and your children, and/or your partner in the most thoughtful way possible? (Yes, the thought of leaving my brother, aka Uncle, who lives with us, and shares an intense relationship with his nephews weighs in heavily here. If it happens, he said he would consider the move too, actually. Sam said he’s not moving without him. He says he’d miss me a lot, but he can’t leave Uncle here.) Are you a go with your gut person? A listen to your higher power person? A talk to everyone you know person? A look for signs in the tea leaves person? A let someone else decide person?
When do you say; “I’ve researched enough, I’ve listened enough, I’ve gone back and forth enough? Now it’s time to act, or drop it, and trust that the real work that has to happen is right here in front of you. Open to all your mother (or father, or other) wisdom, and appreciating that you have made it this far with this post, and our story. A work in progress, to be continued for sure.
