Things are easier, at age 3: Epiphanies from an Artist Mom.
Hero, age 3, spring in Seattle.
Hero pulls on his black “bouncy shoes” and runs to meet his Dada at the driveway, to help him put out the garbage, recycling and compost bins. This is Seattle. A lot of thought has gone into the sorting of our detritus for our household of three. My Chef’s “Friday” falls on a Tuesday, the unconventional weekend is the hallmark of restaurant and theatrical life, surrounded by the hustle of the 9-5 workweek.
I hold myself tight and watch, in my purple sweater and house slippers, taking a breath to enjoy their love before rushing on to the next thing. Tonight, it is dishes, and organizing notes from a four hour social media consulation (crammed into the three hours I actually had childcare).
It is easier to trust my husband and son to complete the day to day tasks. They’ve got this. It’s so hard for me to admit that this is what is easier: myself. I can acknowledge how anxious and controlling I felt in the first two years of Hero’s life. If you are a follower of mine, you know how tied up it all is. There is a profound impact in the letting go.
Nearly a year since we weaned and potty trained, I find solace in that. Being successful at these two incredibly challenging seperations has made my life easier.
I wave at them, and head inside slowly. My departure used to be met with crying at every turn, not so much anymore. Still, I am slow as I walk the 20 steep steps up into my attic. I jokingly call it “Amsterdam” because the steps are so narrow, my husband’s size 13s rarely make it up, and Hero isn’t allowed. I relish this hard won personal space.
Murmuring a mantra into my hand mirror, I pull an angel card “Your ideas are infinite”, then I light a candle. As a theatre maker who now moonlights in digital marketing and administrative wizardry, there is uncertainty at the start - where is my precious time best spent during a work session? Writing out charts for the new musical Twin Peep Show? Memorizing lines for the Sister Kate dance cabaret? Or researching the singer I just signed on to promote?
Angel cards, crystals and candles. These spiritual rituals give me faith, and trust in myself. “What is your hobby these days?”. An artist friend asked me this between bites of bacon on much anticipated brunch date. We had been discussing how artists don’t generally have hobbies, because our all consuming art fills the time in our lives like water. But we seek balance, like everyone, outside of social media and Netflix and chill. I hesitated because my “hobby”, the one that brings me ease, is my version of spirituality. It’s a new discovery, I’m tender about it! These little rituals bring me faith and trust and help me focus on the love. Having these tools at hand is essential for me, as an artist mom.
“Can I hold Calm?” Hero smiles at me as he looks at the high shelf by our door where I keep my crystals and essential oils. “Calm” is the name of a large, hand sized, raw blue celestite crystal that was present in the room when he was born. I’ve used it many times in his young life, to hold when I was loopy with sleep deprivation, or shaking with repressed rage, triggered by parenting. I recognize the significance of passing down my spirituality to him. Despite uncertainties about the long term impact, witnessing his embrace of these rituals brings me comfort and reassurance. In this moment, I find ease in our shared journey of growth and discovery.
