Rhythm

Over the weekend I finished a new book by the author of two other books and a blog that I've been greatly inspired by. There are a few blogs that I regularly follow, which is a mixed blessing of sorts... The beauty and experiences to be found and the stories unfolding with each new post draw me in, spark creativity, introduce me to new ways of seeing things and motivate me to make changes or continue on the path I'm taking. But it is also so very easy to forget - quite willingly, really - that the truths of these stories are also only snapshots. It is such an obvious fact that it feels silly to admit to needing a reminder. And yet I do, because it is oh, so seductive, the idea of the naturally flowing, steady and connecting rhythms they contain.

In any case, this new book I just finished is called The Rhythm of Family and between this book and time spent at the boys' school (which emphasizes the importance of rhythm in our days, especially for kids), I've been thinking about rhythm lately.

I love the idea of rhythm. In it, I think, I hold much of what I want to be and have in our life as a family but do not (quite). Real connection to the natural world around us and to each other and ourselves. An easiness, joy and simpleness of living; a balance that allows for and embraces the inhales and exhales, the ebbs and flows, the rocky and smooth roads that make up our days.

Rhythm, this precious image I hold in my hands, is something that other families, other mothers have and come naturally to. Yet it generally seems to elude me; I make strides only to fall back frustrated, wondering when and if I, we, will live into this image.

At the same time, though, I have this nagging suspicion that perhaps one reason the image I hold so carefully in my hands is as precious to me as it is is that it gives me an out. Things are so chaotic and disconnected because we haven't found our rhythm, our balance, yet. But when we do... And perhaps there is something to defend in that line of thinking. But the uncomfortable thought skirting the edges, that makes me squirm a bit whenever it finds some purchase is that perhaps we already have a rhythm. That maybe the images I see portrayed and have held closely are only glimpses of larger, messier, ever evolving rhythms that are the true reality. Which is at the same time comforting and disheartening.

And could it be that rhythm is not something you can impose or create, but something that needs to and can grow naturally, in time, if the conditions are right? And if that is true, where does that leave my image? How much of it is worth continuing to hold, and how much is instead a hindrance to the unfolding of my, our, natural rhythm? And what are the conditions in which our rhythm can take shape and begin to grow into something where, in its chaotic messiness the balance is tipped - more often than not - in favor of connection and awareness; to something that incorporates and respects our particular journey, both who and where we each and together are, and where we are going?

I suspect there is some mix of acceptance and willingness to be aware of the present moments that has been singularly hard to find and live out in these four and a half chaotic years. And a weakness for the seductive belief that "someone else instead of me, always seems to know the way"*. It is so easy to get caught up in a spirit of deprivation and that for me is a breeding ground for "if only". The messiness of right now is so unattractive compared to what could be and the voice nagging at the edges so easy to quiet. Yet that voice is persistent, and as reluctant as I am to admit it, does have a point that I might do well to consider.

So my tentatively held hope in my days is that I will keep holding carefully my inspirations and image of rhythm, but that I will also allow that image to become all the more precious and real by seeing and allowing it to include and accumulate moments from my days, our days, in this, our particular journey and so find the conditions to grow when and how it may, messiness and all.

If there are ways you see rhythm - smooth or chaotic - in your days, please share!

*From the song Lovely Day, written by Bill Withers. I know it from the CD Sunny Day by Elizabeth Mitchell.