“Stop trying…Surrender…Learn to just let it be.”  These words, spoken by ‘Richard from Texas’ (Richard Jenkins) to ‘Groceries’ (Julia Roberts) in Eat Pray Love, aren’t prophetic, per se, but they are timely as I consider how I’ve been tending my time as of lately.  I’ve been struggling with the notion of creating versus being, as it seems that my “creative” time has been eclipsed by Life’s hurried pace and demands.
 
I’ve been taking care of matters of the heart, pressing matters; matters that won’t tend to themselves if left unattended. Some of these include the meal planning for three growing children with discriminating palates; nurturing of emotional ouchy boo-boos, and the realization of fragile, growing hearts; planning and coordinating all activities, appointments (including mine), and everything in between; and finally, being an advocate for my precious children’s education, tirelessly and fearlessly challenging head-on, those parties, procedures, and ”principles” that continue to fail our children – our biggest resource yet!   The latter takes every nerve and sinew of my being, because the off-handed dismissals are many, as are the excuses and reasons given for why things are “just the way they are“.
 
I am probably no different from other mothers and wives in this regard, but unlike some, I’ve become very passionate about creating, writing, and getting “in the flow, the rhythm of my writing”.  I imagine that I am like other writers and artists, who may become anxious when they cannot strike a balance between being and creating.  Out of necessity, I’ve had to negotiate a space between the two. I’ve had to tend to my time differently, and I’m learning some amazing things in the process.
 
- Still writing? See Writing a Wrong.

- Still loving? Doing my best. Check with hubby later. 

- Still being blessed? You better ask somebody!

- Still being a blessing? I sure do hope so.

- Still being loved? You better believe it!

- Still creating? (Am I breathing?) You bet!

Each act of love and nurture; each release and touch; and each occasion, is a delicate part of the creation in process. Each moment of being competes to be part of the ultimate story, the creation itself. I see it unfolding and can’t quite grasp the intricacies fast enough. However fleeting, I am aware of their fullness, and the indelible mark that they attempt to leave on my heart, in the tapestry that I so desperately want to weave.
 
And as much as I want to sit before that tapestry, and be engaged in its coming together, I know that “being” is as necessary as creating, because it’s in so being that the epiphanies will come. It’s while doing the seemingly mundane, and even the ordinary, that the bursts of creativity enter – in the car awaiting the green light; waiting for the T-Ball game to end;  standing in the checkout line; and even while folding that last load of laundry.
 
So apart from the need to create, I must also tend time differently in order to respond to matters of the heart, and just be. I’m learning to surrender to the need for that space, all while being attuned to the distinction, as well as the inextricable link between the two.  I take comfort that the transformations are still taking place, regardless of where my feet are anchored, or how I’m tending my time at any given moment.