I Blame Yo Yo Ma

Ah nostalgia... how I love you... how I hate you!

You often catch me by surprise, capturing my mind by the beauty of a memory. Toying with me as I remember who I used to be, and implanting longing to be that person again. You make me feel the highs that I once felt from my former self, the jubilation of a season that is past.

Then the loathing I have for you seeps like something sour that is meant to be sweet. I'm consumed with sadness for I can not experience those moments again. I feel anger towards myself for allowing myself to miss the past.

This bundle of feelings... this brain that will not cease to just be. This all came about today because of
Yo Yo Ma... I blame him!

The kids were strangely quiet and serene while I prepared dinner, allowing me to skip the normal Frozen soundtrack in lieu of something a little more peaceful... I decided on Yo Yo Ma. From the first notes of the cello I was immediately transported away from my vegetable chopping and mama-being, to a time when classical music, the violin, being an artist... they defined who I was. All the feelings about who I was then, and all of the work I put towards being that person settled over me. I remembered the camaraderie of other like minded young people, the friendships formed out of loving the same thing. I remembered the moment I watched Yo Yo Ma play... the opportunity to meet him... the anxiety that kept me from meeting him.... then the annoyance at my teenage self for skipping such an amazing opportunity.

Silly... still being mad at myself for something that happened almost twenty years ago. Annoying how everything in my life has to be a learning experience... which all seems to relate to now and understanding the role anxiety has played in my growth. With the anger towards my young self starting to overtake me along with the frustration and sadness of missing such a wonderful season in my life, I noticed the squash I had been chopping was now mush....

And then the age old question... the nagging, annoying question that nostalgia grabs from my very being again and again and again and again hit me like a ton of bricks... "WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL THAT!?" Look at who I am today... I'm wearing gym clothes covered in mashed banana and crusty lunch. I am referee, cook, cleaner, bather, nurse, magician, entertainer to two little kids who enjoy pouncing on me all day. Some days I go hours without speaking to another human being over that age of 4. What of my schooling? What of my work experience? What of my talents and gifts? Am I losing brain-watts every moment I try to teach my son to say "woof goes the dog?"

Obviously the answer is no...

No I'm not losing brain-power. And yes there was a point for my life before today. I am who I am because this is who I chose to be right now. Who I was is still in there, who I will be is in there too, and all of that makes the beautiful person I am today.

The past was a tremendous gift, but the present is so much more. Being a stay at home mom can sometimes blind me with loneliness, isolation, and longing to be more than, but the thing is I am SO much more than I can ever imagine I could be.

And with that I will end this post. To ponder on... to think on... you are SO much more than. In whatever you do, you were created in His image, in His likeness and you are special.

Darn nostalgia.