In Defense of Stillness

I have more free time in this new life I’ve created, and that’s not always a good thing. Since the end of my marriage I have done my best to fill my time with things that bring me joy whenever possible.

At first I was packing the house to relocate so I barely sat down anyway, but at night I’d fix myself a cocktail and look for a movie to watch. Starting a nightly tradition of rewatching a movie I used to love when I was younger and carefree gave me something to look forward to every night. Soon, the tradition included responding to messages on dating apps, which any woman will tell you is a full time job. It was mostly mindless and kept my attention away from missing my kids if they were with their father or making endless to-do lists in my head to facilitate the big move.

I developed a fear of being bored. What if I ran out of tasks and then had time to process what was happening? I shuddered to think. After the moving and the unpacking came the dating. If I’m out using my entire brain to try and remember how to speak to adults I don’t know, I won’t have time to be sad, right? I dated, I made friends, I reconnected with old friends, spent time with family, and started to awaken my former self. But if I didn’t have something to do in my downtown, I’d get nervous.

When my kids left for the entirety of their spring break to be with their dad, I made sure I had plans the entire time. It worked out well and I had a fabulous time. But they are gone a significant part of the summer and I can’t fill all that time. This week I have been home, mostly soaking up moments of solitude that I don’t often get as the primary caregiver of three children. I may even clean the house tomorrow since I know it will actually stay clean until the kids come back. It’s rather novel to sit and write without a bouncy ball whizzing past my head, or being asked to fetch snacks and break up fights. Some moments make my brain itch, but forcing myself to spend at least most of the day alone has been an interesting experiment.

Mostly I spend my time worrying about the kids. Did I pack everything they need? Are they fighting with each other? I got a sobbing FaceTime from my daughter pretty quickly, and she has had some attachment issues because of the divorce so it isn’t surprising, but it helps to know she’s surrounded in family, even if that includes her stinky older brothers who sometimes bug her until she screams. I know the kids will be in my area tomorrow and I thought about asking if I could give them hugs, but I decided it would be too confusing and disruptive to their time with Dad. And maybe confusing for me, too. I’ve never been away from them two whole weeks, so this will be a challenge, followed by several more challenges throughout the summer.

I’ve had time to think about a lot of things, not just missing my kids and our new life here, and I have survived the silence so far. I would prefer not to be bored, but hanging out in bars at my age is exhausting several days in a row. I *can* but I don’t need to. I enjoy my alone time, and savor this chance to be myself before the kids come back and I’m only Mom twenty-four hours a day. I’m not just a mom – I’m a writer, daughter, sister, date, and friend, and I haven’t had much time to flesh those other facets out in my marriage when my focus was on my little family. Breaking open the walls of that home has given me space to explore the rest of who I am, and who I was before.

Sometimes stillness is a blessing.