Friday, August 12, 2016
Hello there, friend,
I read Gifts from the Sea when I was pregnant with my son. It was such a delight. That this woman, this mother, intentionally gave herself a retreat from her family every year in order to seek solace and restoration gave me hope. I didn't know you could do that.
At that time, I was also in the midst of counseling for some issues directly related to how I wanted to move forward as a mother. I kept saying that I didn't want to screw up my daughter (and beneath the surface: because I feel screwed up by my childhood). My counselor suggested I read Gifts from the Sea. She also asked me if I had ever heard of the good enough mother.
A few days ago, my husband and I went out for breakfast in the city. We sat at a table on the sidewalk, people bustling about and music softly humming behind us. Our conversation was about what the new school year would hold for the kids and for us. I told him I wanted to take a pottery class, but it was too expensive and now wasn't the right time. "Sign up for it," he said. Just like that.
Inside me, something clicked. I needed that, the freedom to choose something, the time to make it happen. It felt indulgent and luxurious. It felt necessary. I may not be able to secret away for a week by the sea, but I can do something. I can say yes to something completely out of the ordinary, something that makes me excited, and believe that this good enough mother might enjoy being just that: good enough.