Living a Good, Full Life?
When I started thinking about the possibility of writing a book about a year ago, this phrase “Living a Good, Full Life” became a refrain that made sense to me in the midst of a lot of uncertainty. I couldn’t control my infertility. I couldn’t imagine what my life would look like without children in the coming years. However, I did have the power to control my day-to-day life. I did have the power to choose a good, full life in the midst of infertility.
Each month in my newsletter I write about what living a good, full life looks like: trusting my body, practicing gratitude, trusting the present. Daily I practice trusting my body by going for walks or training for a half marathon. Each night as I go to sleep I name at least three things from the day for which I’m grateful. I continually reorient myself from future-thinking to focusing on the current moment and trusting what it has to offer.
These practices lead me to a good life. They have taught me how to cope in times of stress and uncertainty. These practices help me stay centered when everything around me feels unbalanced. It turns out infertility unknowingly helped prepare me for living through a global pandemic as I can use those same practices today, right now.
It’s the “full” part of the refrain that I’m beginning to rethink since this time of sheltering in place at home.
A Quiet Place
Initially I heard people talking about how this would be a moment of vast creativity. New writing. New ideas. New projects. Perhaps this is true, but it also sounds like filling empty time with fullness because we’re scared of what the emptiness might reveal.
I’ve had the same thoughts for myself — I can finish some quilts and work in the flowerbeds; I can go for walks three times a day and run often; I can read books and watch Netflix. I think I “see” people more than I did pre-physical distancing. I have to choose which virtual happy hours to join and find that some yoga classes overlap with others. Though the days go on for more hours than it seems possible at times, I often get to the end of the day weary from this “full” life.
When I thought about living a good, full life, I wanted to imply that being childless doesn’t make my life any less meaningful than those with children. I wanted to imply that just because I don’t have kids doesn’t mean I don’t have a full, overflowing life. Now I’m starting to wonder if this attempt to prove I have a “full” life might not be the path I want to be on after all.
I have the tendency of filling my time to avoid stillness.
I feel lazy if I’m not accomplishing something. This isn’t new for me — even as a child I always wanted to be doing something. I don’t think this comes from my parents. From what I remember (and see now) they are okay with times of rest and stillness. They don’t have the need to be busy all the time.
Now, I don’t fill my time with “unhealthy” things. I quilt, walk, tend to the flower garden, yoga, train our puppy, run, read, write and practice using my camera. There’s nothing inherently bad in any of these hobbies. However, I do think it’s possible to have too much of a good thing…
I struggle because I know being outside is healing for me. I know that moving my body soothes my mind. Sewing gives me joy. Reading takes me to other worlds. I want to do all of these things… sometimes all of them in one day. But, I wonder, what am I avoiding by creating this “full” life? What might I gain if I gave myself some extra space to just be? What does it even mean to just be?
Why am I so determined to produce and achieve?
A Place to Be
Early on in my infertility diagnosis I asked myself a question: what’s the point of my life if I’m not a mom? I feel a similar question creeping up right now: what’s the point of my life if I don’t produce?
I know intellectually that I am enough right now. Full stop. I know that whether I did all the things and succeeded beautifully or did nothing ever at any time, my worth would be the same. I know that in either case I would be enough. I know that. I’m just not sure I’ve ever felt it.
This pandemic and the actions we are required to take for the safety of our communities is highlighting something I probably knew but didn’t want to face… I’m afraid of being still.
Is living a good, full life really the point? I don’t have any answers right now. Only questions to ponder. And, as of right now, I have plenty of time to ponder...