Liberating Form

I guess this is as good a time as any to explain the blog title. It comes from the title of an old poetry book that I picked up at some used book sale. The premise behind it is that a major component of meaning in poetry is made available only through the sometimes rather constricting form the poet must adhere to. The sonnet is one of the most artificial and prescriptive forms, yet Shakespeare (and others, of course) was able to achieve a kind of spontaneity not despite its requirements, but because of them – a sonnet’s energy often derives from the poet’s skill at working within, straining against, or playing with the poem’s conventions. Haiku, whose brevity and measured lines require drastic economies, often elicit a gasp of insight precisely because of pared down language and necessarily small scope.

Harvest moon:
around the pond I wanderand
the night is gone.
--Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)

In the church we often talk about the ways that adhering to rules in some areas allows us a larger freedom in others (the hourglass metaphor is often used). We say that by committing to keep the word of wisdom we are saved the agony of deciding whether or not to partake every time we are offered alcohol, etc. By keeping the rules we are free from the greater bondage of addiction associated with these substances. There are many other examples.

I’ve come to believe that motherhood is the same way, or can be.

For a long time, I was a kind-of fly by the seat of my pants kind of mom – we would do whatever felt right or prudent at the moment. A lot of this stemmed from the appeasement at any cost we became accustomed to when Sarah was a colicky baby. As time went on though, I wondered why some of my friends (and sisters) seemed to be managing the whole motherhood thing so much more easily than I. And so I asked. Without exception the kids who were least prone to meltdown were the ones who lived by a schedule—not always a rigid one, but at least having an expectation of what comes next and what behavior is expected. So we tried it. Miraculously Sarah started sleeping through the night – consistency and routine were exactly what she needed to get calm. In other areas of our life battles were disappearing as well. When she knew that Library Singing time was always on Wednesday mornings and we always went to the playground afterwards – she stopped begging and just asked, “Is it Wednesday yet?” The answer – we already watched our one movie today, you can choose something for tomorrow – became acceptable to her because she knew the rules. If there were special circumstances that deviated from the routine, it was okay because the norm had been established and the exceptions could be explained. (Now if only could keep the rules more regularly)

Motherhood can often feel like a very prescriptive role. There’s just no leeway in the fact that you have children who cannot be unsupervised or attend to their own needs basic to survival. Sure you can hire or swap someone to care for them some of the time, but once you become the mom – that job is yours for life. When you choose to be your children’s primary caregiver, you choose the bondage that comes with that role. You are bound to make sure that you (or someone else responsible to you) is looking out for them. For most of us, this role also binds us to the tasks of nurturing that are part of that care – cooking, cleaning, changing diapers, doing laundry, driving to appointments and activities, trying to find interesting ways to occupy the waking hours, trying to ensure the consistency of the sleeping hours. You lose much of the spontaneity of “single” life (of course most people have a job with rather rigid requirements as well is they are not at home).

I maintain (and hope in the deepest recesses of my soul) that these bonds need not oppress us, but can – much like the forms above – liberate us instead.

My friend, Joy, is a marvelous example of this. She is an MD and is certainly one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. Yet she chose to be a stay-at-home mother and throws all of her considerable resources into her role. She has as many little personal projects as anyone else –she sews, scrapbooks, and is devoted to book club. She can’t expect too much outside help – Marshall is in a demanding PhD program at MIT and their stage of life presupposes that they don’t have much disposable income to spend on childcare. But the time Joy spends with her two boys is not the sort of treading-water-until-Dad-comes-home-to-rescue-us-from-ourselves that I fall into all too often. She plays engagedly with her boys, helping them discover and develop creativity. She follows their interests. She’s learned the names of all of the birds that live in the trees at the park behind their apartment. She’s turned her container-gardening hobby into an ongoing lesson in biology for her kids – involving them in all the steps and tasks of growing and harvesting plants.

My friend, Stacey, has done a similar thing with cooking. Instead of getting bogged down in the recurring responsibility of preparing dinner for her family, she has made food preparation a passion. She watches cooking shows and devours cookbooks. She loves to try new recipes and experiment with new techniques. Even though it is more time-consuming and expensive, she is committed to using as many fresh ingredients as possible, convinced that it does make a difference in the quality of the taste and in the nutritional value of the dishes she prepares. Cooking for Stacey is rarely drudgery. She allows herself the time to make each meal a work of art. (Of course, since they don’t have children it is okay for them to wait a while until dinner is ready at the end of the day).

I want to feel liberated in the same way. I want to throw myself into my mothering and housekeeping with the same love of the bonds that these friends do. I want to create beautiful, satisfying meals and be part of the wondrous discoveries my girls will experience as they learn about the world. I want my home to be an orderly and welcoming place. I want to approach the prescriptions of my day with verve and ingenuity. I’m glad to be a mother and a wife and to have such a beautiful home – and I want to act like it. These bonds can be liberating, I just need to remember that and make it happen (starting by getting out of this comfy chair and turning off the tv so I can actually interact with my kids.