We all experience those moments of feeling inadequate. Of wanting to quit over pushing past something that seems impossible. We all feel it whether we admit it or not. I’m not meaning to sound so egotistical…to know and understand what every person feels….but I’m confident that it is probably true.
When I feel that way…I normally quit. Why spend your life feeling that way? Why put yourself through that when some days it’s hard enough to just get through to the other side?
I had this dream last night that I discovered I had breast cancer. I remember a feeling of pain and giving into the illness realizing I had no other choice. I remember watching random people around me and struggling within myself to decide whether or not I should hide the illness from others or tell everyone I knew to find a positive twist on the inevitable….I sat through my internal version of chemo…having never had anyone all that close to me go through that; the dream was pretty detailed…I remember how it brought my spirit down and yet I struggled to figure out how I could help people within my current situation.
I have my hopes and dreams of the future…I try hard to work on them and make baby steps in the right direction…in some direction that is not just sitting still as a mom…but I feel inadequate. I’m reading a couple of plays this weekend. Preparing for a meeting coming up that will involve discussions and breaking down the structure and character…what makes the writing good? What makes it effective in the dramatic world of theatre? I always wanted to be involved in the theatre. Over the last couple of years I came to believe that it was through my words that I would stay connected….my ego was brighter than my talent…I’ve discovered. Or perhaps I’m experiencing a low right now…I hope so…because I have a lot of ideas….and although I don’t believe I’m going to win any pulitzer prize aware or Dora Mavor Moore Aware…I thought for sure that if I kept writing I could hit one good one….one good piece that would make it to Broadway or hit the big Canadian theatres…just one piece that would make all the writing worth while…
But tonight I’m insecure. I’m writing a blog instead of working on a play. I’m drinking…slowing down my production level in order to find some comfort and release after a hard week. I’ve got my own business, I work on my art, work with my kids’ school, train my dog, make the meals, clean the house….a never ending routine of keeping everyone around me happy. I’m not complaining…I’m happy. I’m willing to put in the work in order to be there for my kids and include many other children into my extended family….there’s something about the laughter and silliness of toddlers that puts life into perspective. I don’t ever want to put myself through an office job, or any other type of 9-5 job that takes me away from my children and my house and away from doing the things that I love to do….
But I struggle. Just like anyone else who is willing to look beyond their noses at what is really going on. I struggle to put in all in balance. I struggle to feed myself as much as I feed the kids. I struggle to have time to learn and explore and be…me.
And so I’m attending the women’s room meeting on Monday. I have to read two plays for the meeting and both I started hating. I hated both because of the lack of connection. I hated both plays because they are both one person shows that I find to be self indulgent and void of intimate connection.
And those opinions bring me back to my feeling of self inadequacy. Both plays have won awards so they are officially good. (The reason behind why we are obligated to read them) But I don’t care. If I don’t enjoy plays that have a legacy of success and acclimation…perhaps I’m the one who is stupid. Perhaps it is motherhood where I belong to be.