Listless

Yes, this post is going to start out with another "how Motherhood has changed me" observation.

See, I used to be the kind of person who would write detailed, page(s) long New Year's resolutions, which I was ready to "implement" by midnight of the 31st.

And I kept a lot of them (including that most common resolution of all. I lost my 20 "grad school pounds" six or seven months after my January 2007 resolution to do so). Every January that I can remember has begun with much budgeting, reading, exercising, cleaning, and the like, with all of it kept track of on a very organized list.

I like lists, or I did before--here it is--Motherhood happened.

I don't think I've written a "real" list since I had Zoë. Sure, I may scrawl two or three things down on the back of an envelope if I'm having an especially busy day, but those don't count, not when compared to the small notebook I found a while ago that pre-M was used only for lists. Lists written neatly and organized with utmost care to ensure maximum efficiency. Lists that started with 5:30 trips to the gym, ended with specified numbers of papers to be graded before bed, and included minutia such as emails to write in between.

So what's to blame (or thank) for listless living now? Listlessness? At first I thought as much. Pre-M, if there was one thing I hated more than not having a list, it was not crossing out everything on one. When my adventures in Motherhood began, my list--had I written one--would have often looked like this:

Feed baby
Shower

with the first defying a "completed" crossing out by virtue of never being over and the second by representing a major feat. In other words, maybe I no longer write lists because their contents would drive me crazy.

But it's not that. The thing is that I no longer live in lists either. The success of my day is no longer judged by how much I can pack into it, how quickly I can finish it, what I have to show for it, and what it may get me in the future.

Instead, the post-M me has been forced to live in that other "m"-word. The Moment. Now. Which is also eternity. I enjoy, I cuddle, I get bored, I clean up poop, I nurse, I play, I smile, I revel. But I don't really plan. And I don't do for the sake of doing. For the first time that I can remember, I just am. And I am with. And I am here.

And it's nice.

But it's also hard to get used to.

So all of this is to say, I was at a loss for resolutions when December 31, 2008 rolled around. And I still wasn't ready to make any on January 1, or 2, or 3 . . .

Then Danielle posted this, which was such a good idea (accompanied by such a cute baby), that I decided to try it on for size. And it fits. And here is mine--with a logo to boot!

Because what all of those lists were lacking--though they did a great job of seeing me through days of full-time school + full-time job + teaching + everything else--was purpose. The kind of purpose that comes from looking at the big picture and exploring complexities that can't be captured in a column of phrases.

So over the next days--when the mood strikes me--I'll be exploring the contours of this motto and what it might mean physically, emotionally, intellectually, artistically, and spiritually (in no particular order).