The other day, while going through a notebook that isn’t hers, but she claimed it anyway, River found notes that I wrote to myself. She tore the sheet off, tucked it in her purse, and while taking family breaks under the umbrella of a few Brooklyn trees, she pulled it out.
“What do you want for this space?”
“Why do people come here?”
“Why do I come here?”
“Where is real community?”
She read it loud and clear, questioning my own questions. Things I wrote a few weeks earlier when muddling over life, work, kids, and summer. “Why did you write this, mama?” She asked. I explained.
In a bit of a work-haze, I wrote it trying to sort through the why’s of this space. That afternoon, I was sorting through the money I spent on work help, the general exhaustion I was feeling at the time, my sensitivity of the energy of others, online politics, what’s next after Woman Of Color, and all of this in relation to my role as a mother (and the many layers within that).
While she tore the pages out and read them clear for me, the questions haven’t stopped lingering. I haven’t found distinct answers. I am too busy just surviving and trying to thrive, moment by moment. And not just the heat, but the entire juggle. I was talking to a friend about it this morning. How relative survival is. Yesterday I was so very tired and a tad bit overwhelmed with the week already (though it hadn’t started). And today, through it all, I am thankful. But at the same time, very aware of the fact that these things are a work-in progress; what I want for my home, my body, my mind, my work, and yes, this online space.
I’ll share it all clearly as soon as I can. I want to work on it. For now, I’ll just share photos of yesterday with the kids. An entire day that exemplified what I believe is my desire and hope with my home and children, even with me being unequestionably exhausted and hot.
Whether your work space, your body space, or your home space, what do you want?