If you have been reading along, you know that I sometimes write about Becoming. We are all Becoming, and we decide what we become. Becoming happy, becoming interwoven with others, becoming more giving, becoming the person we want to be through the body of work that we do on our lives.
Becoming. In progress, imperfect, but moment by moment finding the path.
A pseudonym I sometimes use is BeingMama. I chose BeingMama because in this phase of my life, mothering is a major direction in which I point my energy, both physical and mental. At least it feels that way most days as I collapse in bed and the day’s moments swirl in my mind. Prioritizing the children is part of a parent’s job description regardless of what else the parent does.
What I mean is, if one aspect of my day has made my head spin, it’s usually the mothering. Or more accurately, the children that I’m doing my very best to mother. If one activity has caused me to dig deep and keep a calm, level head or evoke new and creative ways to explain complex ideas, it’s generally the mothering activities that challenge me the most. Did I mention the patience that I didn’t know I had? Mothering has helped me find it. My incredible stamina? Thank you, Motherhood. The name BeingMama is an acknowledgment to myself that – if I’m honest – this is the season of intense parenting for me. Exhaustion aside, I am the better for it. As I stretch myself over the frames of various shapes, it’s the motherhood shape that extends me and stretches me the most.
It has occurred to me (and perhaps I’m a little slow) that although I am becoming many things, by definition I am not becoming a mother. I am a mother. An imperfect mother, a mother that is constantly evolving, but a mother that has dived in, giving all to her children the best way she knows how. My children only need me this comprehensively for a short while, and I am determined to be there for them. BeingMama. All other incarnations of me are paled in comparison.
To me, the word “Being” is something that describes the divine. Humans are becoming while God is already a perfect, final self. The imperfect-in-progress versus the perfect. Parenting, while imperfect, is a fairly all-or-none endeavor. Parenting – like all selfless caretaking – is, following the logic, something that goes a step beyond normal imperfections to brush with the divine. The lines I write in the book of my children’s lives are set in indelible ink, eternal on a human scale.
Becoming and Being.
All of this to say that some things we are becoming and some things we are. I am becoming more of the person I want to be, and being a parent is an immersive lifestyle guiding me on my path to becoming. Motherhood has taught me about becoming happy, becoming more giving and becoming inextricably intertwined with others. Directly and indirectly all experiences sculpt us and lay the path we walk as we Become through being caretakers of those who need us.