What if you do it like it's no big deal?
For the cute over-thinkers
First time here? Welcome. I’m Sarina, Mother, mentor, artist and writer.
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If you’re the type to make things a big deal, especially when they’re not, HI 👋🏽
We’re a cute bunch.
We make very.serious.cases, in our internal world, for why we can’t just do the thing.
Even the things we deeply desire to do.
So many whirring reasons why it’s hard.
Overwhelm is real, no wonder we make things a bigger deal than they need to be, we’re maxed out, especially as mothers, and we crave a wide window of un-interrupted space to create some epic shit.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Where’s the fucking village?
It IS a big deal that we’re doing this mother-partner-homemaker-creator thing in isolation.
I’ve battled with resentment at the fucked up system we inherited. Battled with guilt about my resentment when I have a healthy, joyful child who looks at me like I’m God and just wants me to play with her. I’ve battled with how much I should just get down on the floor and play, whether I want to or not, and how much I should fight for my right to have space to create, alone, in peace.
Something got me to unclench
In recent weeks, my daughter has been running over to me while I’m doing the dishes, clutching her Cabbage Patch doll and pleading,
“Mum, you be the teacher and I’ll be the mum, okaayyy?”
I’ve clenched and stiffened against a looping backstory of ‘Fuck the system, where’s my village? I’m holding too much, how can I tend to the house AND play with my child, I don’t even WANT to play this game, I want to sit down and create some epic shit.’
In Human Design I’m a Projector (I naturally have inconsistent energy levels), I’m also easily overwhelmed and over-stimulated, I cannot handle lyric-based music in the background while there’s any hint of conversation in the room, I need to be single-task focused so I don’t scream, I need things to be in neat segments, clear delineation between washing the dishes and parenting.
Who am I kidding? There are no segments. It’s a fact that as a mother-partner-homemaker-creator, all lines and roles are blurred.
And fighting against this has nearly killed me.
I was very attached to neat segments, clear delineations. I was attached to my child understanding my capacity, “Can you see, my hands are busy right now?”
Obviously, it didn’t work, because, humility check - I was trying to control everything in anger that ‘It’s fucked mothers have to do so much’, which it is, but there’s an exhale awaiting.
Lately, something has kept leaning over and whispering,
“What if you do it like it’s no big deal?”
So I stood there, the very next time, scrubbing the frying pan…
Little feet bounding over, "Mum, you be the teacher…”
I breathed, I let my belly soften, I unclenched.
What if I do it like it’s no big deal?
“Ok, we can play it here while I’m washing up.”
“Ok, Mum,” she grinned.
She hadn’t given up on me, thank goodness.
The no-big deal micro-moments
It’s been my resistance to playing Gia’s game while washing dishes, the resistance to ‘Do I have to fucking do it ALL?’ which was in fact, far more taxing than actually doing it.
I’d treated these kinds of blurred lines like a really big deal.
Sure, my body is tired, but more so, I’m tired of the voice in my head that’s gripping to how hard this all is.
It’s not my daughter’s fault the village isn’t playing teachers and mums with her while I daydream and wash the dishes.
We inherited this far from ideal village-less paradigm, but there’s no revolution when there’s resentment.