Hanging in the Balance is a Spiritual Practice: The Motherhood Struggle is Real!

As mothers our time is often divided into so many parts that it’s hard to piece together even a semblance of wholeness. There are times when I wonder if I will ever move beyond the constant anxiety that accompanies symptoms of scatter brain. That is, at any given moment, I can be thinking about critical theories of discourse analysis, what can I make for dinner in thirty minutes or less, and how to pull together a twenty-minute fun and exciting presentation that a group of toddlers will get, love and award me the greatest mom accolade. Sometimes it works and sometimes, truthfully, most times not so much. I have found myself searching online chat groups, having long talks with my mom and other girl friends about how to live in the dichotomy of Melva the mommy and Melva the scholar. The hard part is that in my scholarship I challenge specific dichotomies that seek to divide particular bodies and systems into incongruent parts. In theory, I’d like to think that I don’t buy into competing notions that would have me succumb to a type of personality disorder where I perform one way at the kitchen table and another at the seminar podium. Yet, truth be told, balancing motherhood, the rigors of work, and intimate relationship has been one of the hardest feats to tackle. The trek to such balance reveals a spiritual practice. On one end of the spectrum are those who would suggest that because women have fought so hard to gain equal civic, professional and vocational footing that, which remains debatable, I should not take a deep breath but instead suck it up and work it out. At the other end of the spectrum lays those who argue on the side of tradition. This perspective aligns itself within the bifurcation of work and mothering wherein a mother’s only job should be parenting. I do not attempt to solve this contention or to even promote one view over the other. In search of wholeness, peace of mind, and the desire to raise womanish girls who question the status quo, knows that their bodies are their own and have an awareness of self, Spirit and others, I often hang in the balance to maintain my sanity! I find comfort in the liminality of motherhood. In doing so I find that I am not alone in my attempt to live out my dreams while trying to lay the groundwork for my daughters to discover their own.  In moments of hanging in the balance, I submit my prayers to the universe: Grant me the ability to extend the same freedom of choice that I treasure daily. Help me to honor the sound of the genuine in her as I require others to honor the same sound in me. I don’t claim to have the right answers. As a matter of fact my response is about asking more than it is solving. I have grown enough to realize that my reprieve from holding it all together in a nicely coiffed and congealed chignon rests not in answers but in the ability to ask the questions. The weight of the question is oft too heavy for one inquirer to bear. Asking in community lessens the load and clarifies when and where I enter the spiritual practice of hanging in the balance. So hang on sister, you are not alone. In moments of deep overwhelm remember that there is no play book and no one is keeping score. Do your best, be kind to yourself understanding that with each moment comes another opportunity to hang in the balance of a power greater than us.