Broken

There was a midnight wake up call from a sick child, a husband away on a business trip and an eight year old in tears over the standardized testing taking place that morning. I was over the day before it had even begun.

A saint, my mother, arrived in the early hours to shepherd the six girls through their morning routine while I hopped in the car for a nearly three hour commute.

It was no wonder that fog filled my brain and I found myself on the road less traveled. Miscalculating my route meant no cell reception for a great portion of the drive rendering it impossible to join a 9am conference call. I had no choice but to watch the sunrise over the rolling hills.

I pondered the hard parts;

this journey of motherhood and career.

Feeling called to both I wondered why it could be so impossible at times.

And in that moment I came to realize that I will forever live in this space of in between.

There is no magic fix, no way to Maria Kondo my way into balance;

always there will be something off kilter.

The imbalance does not make me broken, it makes me real.

So I will feel sad that I miss the tooth falling out and ecstatic when a project I shepherd moves forward. I will hold the hurts and the happy all in one place.

There is beauty in the rising sun. This is where I want to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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