Tuesday, 19 June 2012

fire control

My life on Ouland Farm, which is situated on the hills of one of the world's most sought after beach destinations, is shamefully good. I have a wonderful and hard working, albeit quite eccentric, husband, who doesn't require that I go out and work; two healthy children; two sets of grandparents living in close proximity; a beautiful and willing thoroughbred mare; a pony for the girls; my own farm to ride on; food growing in the garden; men to help, periodically, in the garden, a 150 year old charming, drafty and slightly falling down, farmhouse; a paid-off car and a crowd of amazing close friends.

Almost daily I look around and wonder at how I got to this point in my life. Sometimes I'm a little afraid to think too deeply about it incase I jinx my good fortune with the wrong thinking process. I rather stick to a quick and deeply felt "thank you" to the angels before moving swiftly onto the tasks that allow us to live such a life.  
But even though I am so blessed, I am ashamed to admit that I still go through periods of feeling frustrated and uninspired. I know these emotions are a common glitch in the human psyche - when the going gets good the ego looks for something to attach itself to, to sabotage and create drama in one's life as if our fundamental make-up is that of the undeserving, which it is not.
So I try to remain vigilant and aware of my self-defeating thoughts. I cling to the things that remind me how good it really is to be alive until Life and her flaws pull me into a clutch of despair and what looked like a bed of roses starts to look like a thicket of thorns.
At the end of the day, no matter what you have physically created in your life, every one of us is fighting a battle of some sorts, it is only the degree of intensity that varies from moment to moment.
Although my physical life is near perfect, my battles are ever present. Marriage and motherhood is a constant place of challenge. Sometimes I am serene and giving, a selfless, patient mother, a goddess in the kitchen - and bedroom. Other times I am possessed by demons, breathing fire and brimstone, aching to be set free from this domestic drudgery. To get on my horse and ride as a far from expectation, duty, chores and explanations as possible. In my mind's eye I see a desert of freedom stretching out before me and I am alone, carefree and full of energy.
But eventually I check myself, reign in the horse and count the blessings. I remind myself how I wouldn't want it any other way and slowly the fierceness of my will to escape subsides. I go back to being mild and well mannered, doing what is required of me. With a smile. On my dial.

No comments:

Post a Comment