notes from the above ground

Looking back on my life so far, I tend to want to compartmentalize it into events, periods, eras if you will. When I was a child, I was somehow aware, even then, that I was wide eyed with wonder over the world I was living in and how lucky I was to be alive. I felt a need to be one with that world, homogenized in a way. As an adolescent I felt the same wide eyed wonder, however I felt I needed to separate myself. The focus for me then was to be different and I relished how I was "other". During my young adulthood, it was about making a name for myself, figuring out who I was. Most poignant for me, til this day, were my days at Tyler School of Art. My work, which at the time was ME in a very real way, was put under the microscope and analyzed, both by my peers and myself. This was incredibly influential for me in a way that is very much still with me to this day, though making art is something that feels like a distant memory.
Now, as a mother and a career person, my life is very much more mainstream and the idea of being "other" or transforming myself is so much less attainable or appealing. I focus now on being the best possible mom I can be. Part of that is focusing on my career and my family relationships. It's very interesting for me to watch myself (which I try to do in the third person) navigate the ins and outs of my life. I find solace and pride in the most mundane activities. I say mundane, and it sounds as though that's a negative, but in actuality it's quite the opposite. I want to grow vegetables, bake things, create a comfortable/healthy home, help my son develop into an amazing person.
I was noticing today that my face is showing its age, and very soon, it will be all the more apparent that I am no longer a young person. This realization was met with mixed emotions. In a way, I feel like aging is the best adventure ever, and part of me is fighting tooth and nail against this.
My sister was married last week, and it made me so proud of her. At the same time, it reminds me that I am not married, not married. My son has no father. I want more babies, but how will that happen?
This entry was not intended to end on a somewhat sad note, in fact, I was inspired to write this by an overwhelming sense of being present in my life, and happiness in general. Consider this my public statement. I am once more (or still) wide eyed with wonder. More to come.