Embracing the Catastrophe and Letting Go of the Weatherman

The moon over the mountains outside Telluride, Colorado; taken by John.
The following day, a blizzard blocked out the view.

A famous author wrote (and I paraphrase), "I once had a spouse, kids, house, job . . . the whole catastrophe."  I love his words because they remind me that our daydreams about "how life will be" are often alarmingly off target.

The lesson for me has been to make fewer predictions, not try to change the weather.  In fact, I am learning to just enjoy (or accept) whatever the day brings.

Beginning with marriage to an outgoing adventurer and progressing from having one baby together to having three sons, three part-time jobs, and a heavily shedding, slobbery dog; I, too, am blessed with the whole catastrophe.

In order to feel less swept away by the swirling blend of voices and needs surrounding me, I used to arrange a lot of structure in our lives-- school, sports, lessons, activities, field trips, chores.  (I'm referring mostly [but not exclusively!] to the lives of my children).  Some of it was good; but much of it was more about my discomfort with not being able to predict what the day (and my children) would be like than it was really about the needs of my children and family.  I wanted to create the weather; I wanted to predict what the day would bring.

Thankfully, as our family's time together has expanded through homeschooling, my need to control the boys has contracted.  I more deeply enjoy and appreciate the boys' natural rhythms and interests.  I am often at ease with the sun, wind, clouds, and even the rain that flows through our days.

Enjoying lunch together at the Space & Rocket Center.

Instead of imagining what I want our days to be like and then trying to impose my vision on my family, I have finally made the switch (mostly) to looking at my children and seeing what they actually need to be joyful and fulfilled.  It seems simple but it was a huge shift for me.  And it works.

There is more laughter in the house now; but it isn't part of a lesson plan.  There are more experiments, more sing-a-longs, more late nights and slow mornings.  There is more learning than I'd ever dreamed of prior to homeschooling, although much of it deals with subject matter that I could never have predicted: how do you craft bread on Survivalcraft?  Sometimes the house is alarmingly cluttered and the boys have learned how to place the couch cushions just so the holes in the couch don't show.  It's the whole catastrophe.  And I love it.