Lately, I have been struggling with myself. I find myself feeling lost or bewildered in my day. I keep seeking contentment, and can not seem to find it. In trying to figure out my problem, I started the contemporary version of research - the internet search. I kept using terms like "purpose in life" and such. It only landed me a lot of self-help sites, ads and directions to put my troubles in the hands of my religion. Not quite what I was looking for in an answer.
I am a questioning person by nature. I analyze EVERYTHING. I look a little deeper into the meaning of things. The reasons for things. Sometimes, when there is not likely to even BE a meaning. I know I am my own worst enemy, but I am trying.
I suppose I should start by introducing myself. I am a 40 year old (when did THAT happen?!) woman. I am the mother of two teens ages 14 and 16. The 16 year old has recently returned to the public school system (per her persistant requests) in a performing arts academy. And, the 14 year old is still contently at home for school. The oldest is a senior this year and the youngest a sophomore. I became a registered nurse after my first child was born and enjoyed my chosen career path. I worked in the local hospital in the OB & Med-Surg Departments, a local doctor's clinic in the health department, and finally as Pre Admissions Coordinator prior to surgeries again at the local hospital. My favorite parts were the teaching and patient interaction. I much preferred sitting and talking with my patients and trying to lend a helping hand while providing a shoulder when needed. I started having a worsening in health status shortly after the children were born. In hindsight, it had been progressing throughout my years of life, but became enough to be noticable and troublesome after I gave birth to the kids and I started balancing a career, children and household. I have a wonderful husband who was my high school sweetheart and remains the light of my life. I was told to go home on a medical leave from one of my many doctor's about 6-7 years ago and was then told I would never return to work. So, I have been medically disabled since. I have a little known disorder called Pure/Primary Autonomic Failure. Basically, it just makes a wreck of your life, but won't likely kill you anytime soon.
Originally, I threw myself into being a homemaker and wife and mother with gusto and was thrilled. But, as time wore on, I found myself growing less and less happy with what my life has become until I come to this point in time. I now find myself trying to struggle through my days without feeling sorry for myself or without crying or yelling at someone that does not deserve my frustrations.
I have sought many different ways of feeling fulfilled or content.
I love animals. Volunteered at a local animal shelter, but the routine was much like a real job and my body could not withstand it. I started taking in abused and neglected or abandoned animals. I had a full house for quite some time, but my family has come to resent the critters and the messes, troubles and limitations having a personal zoo brings, so I have slowly grown down to a more 'normal' number of critter friends as the older ones have passed on. (Option one: save animals. Failed.)
If a person finds themselves in the position I find myself in, and seeks a way to get through it happily and sanely enough, they will be told almost without exception to seek relief in religion. Whatever the religion is that the advice-giver happens to follow. In my corner of the world, the vast majority is Christian. I hold a rather unconventional view of religion and that is not something that is very well accepted in our area either, so I tend not to share my views often. I, however, thought, "I was happy going to church as a child, maybe I will be again as an adult." So, I started attending church again. Problem is this: I believe in God. I believe in A God. I don't know that it is a different one for Christians, versus other religions of the world or not. I am not convinced it is not the same "God" only called a different name. I am also not convinced that the Bible is the "go to" book of all truth and answers. Remember, I question everything? I know the bible was not "the bible" until hundreds of years after the time of the death of Christ. I know that the bible is an accompilation of many different religious books. I know that many more books rather than what is actually in the Bible was considered for inclusion. I know that Man decided which books to include. I also know that Man rarely does anything without some purpose of self gain. (sorry, my human nature beliefs here) I know that at the time the Bible was compiled, governments and religious bodies were often one and the same or at least hand and hand. SO...I believe that the books chosen by Man, were chosen for not only religious significance, but for personal gain or for the propoganda of a distinctly non-religious purpose. This same belief of mine holds with translations of the early texts. But, that is not all! My poor heart and mind also question one of the fundamental (maybe THE one fundamental) aspects of Christianity. I am not convinced that Jesus Christ was anymore a son of God than you or I. I believe he was special. Probably special to God. But, I am not sure he was any closer to God than you or I. Sorry, this is why I don't share my views on religion. This is also why (Option two: Religion. Failed.)
Option three? Crafts. I love to make things. I often see something in a store or on line and thing, "I can make that." And, do. I started making jewelry. I am good at it. I sew. I am decent enough that I made my daughter's prom dress off the top of my head and it was a huge hit. I started making organic soaps, salves, etc. Growing my own herbs and using ingredients in the most pure form I can find. What do I end up with? Baskets and baskets of unused jewelry. (I don't wear jewelry). Sewing machines, threads and fabrics in piles. Enough soap for two familys for at least three years. All sitting in piles cluttering the house. If I had a purpose to the things I made, I would be thrilled. But, there really is not one other than to add clutter. (Option three: Crafting. Failed.)
I tried just being a great mom, wife and homemaker. Boring! Wake up. Cook breakfast, teach school, sweep, mop, dust, scrub toilets and sinks, do dishes, do laundry, make lunch, make supper, clean kitchen and dishes (again), sleep...repeat....repeat...repeat. Ended up as. Dusty furniture, cobwebs, dirty laundry piles, half assed meals, daughter that resents being homeschooled... I became so bored! So overwhelmed with the monotony of 'life' that I stopped caring. I stopped scrubbing. I stopped cooking. I just could not bring myself to bother doing it when I knew it would only need done again tomorrow if not later today. (Option four: Betty Crocker meets Suzy Homemaker. Failed.)
So, where am I going with all of this? Uhm... I don't know, really. I guess this is my introduction to me. The introduction to my analysis of myself. My introduction to the reason of this blog and the title of it. Musings... Seems fitting. I am thinking. Always thinking. Thinking of ways to make my life more enjoyable and me more content. Ways of making a difference. Thinking of why I or people in general do 'what they do'. Thinking of ways to make my family enjoy one another again. Thinking of...thinking of... Everything! Just my musings of life.
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