For some reason, today my emotions have been very close to the surface. I'm not exactly sure why, except that hormones do another wild dance as women approach menopause, and that may be the cause. It could also be because I am reading a book which brings up a lot of emotions, and I am also writing about raising my children, which is another emotional experience.
We attended the temple with Ethan Tuesday night, and I was once again struck by the profound joy of knowing that no matter what, my children are sealed to me. I am so grateful for that privilege. I love my children even more now than when they were born.
My friend Beverly died last week and her funeral was on Friday. That was not too sad, as Bev suffered for a long time with brain cancer, and her only daughter was grown with three beautiful daughters herself. But the past year has brought a lot of rather stressful experiences for me, which now seem to be coming home to roost.
My youngest child graduated from high school and began college 2500 miles away. Five friends of mine have died, four from cancer. My older daughter got married. My mother's health has deteriorated badly. Add to this crises with our economy and job uncertainty, and I guess it's inevitable that I get emotional.
A particular elder serving in our ward is going home this week, and for some reason this has upset me deeply! Though there have been many elders and sisters move through our ward over the past 22 years, and some I have known better and loved a great deal, but this particular young man has touched my heart in a profound way. I truly feel the Spirit when I talk to him. As I left church this afternoon, I wished him well, and thanked him for his service--and I choked up. Embarrassed, I rushed past him, then turned and said, "Go home, and be a good man." In front of a lot of people, too!
I hope--and in my heart I know--that out there in Utah there must have been someone who felt like that about my son. The young men and women who make such a great sacrifice of time and personal indulgence to serve missions are a tremendous blessing to those whose lives they touch. We need them. The world needs them. Thank you, Elder M. We will miss you.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Peter Principle
I'm not stupid, but I'm no intellectual heavyweight, either. At least compared to some of my friends and acquaintances. I am fortunate to have had a good education, good parents who encouraged intellectual development above and beyond what they themselves attained, and a wonderful husband whose intelligence and intellectual curiosity have helped me to learn a great deal I might not have, if it weren't for him. (See Brigham's Blog, right.)
I am also the Martha type who fusses and putters around the house, cleaning and cooking. Of course, somebody has to do those things, and because of tradition, inclination, skill, and time, it falls to me rather than my husband. (And yes, I appreciate going to the bank and withdrawing money that his effort, and not mine, put in there.) It's long been my argument that men have been able to be the more prominent thinkers and doers in this world because they have women at home taking care of the necessities of life. I don't much admire Thoreau because while he was at Walden, he lived only 1 1/2 miles from home, his mother did his laundry, and she kept him supplied with food. It was hardly the lonely hardscrabble self-sufficient life Thoreau painted it. I don't think he was trying to mislead his readers; I think he really thought he had it rough and considered the support his family gave him as his due.
But now we come to something I have written about before: my woeful lack of meaningful work experience. I am trying to get to the point where I can earn enough money writing that I can quit my part-time store job. I have been rejected by a couple of places, and the last item I wrote and submitted was returned as all wrong. I panicked: is it the Peter principle finally at work in my life? (The Peter principle is that everyone rises to the level of his incompetence. In other words, at some point you're going to be in over your head.) I asked for some direction from the editor, and he gave it to me. I rewrote the piece, and re-submitted it, but I fear that it is too intellectually lightweight for his website.
So, I am very sad, but what can I do? Rather than bone up on all things political, work my way from the newsroom to the anchor desk, and network at trade association meetings, for the last twenty-five years I've made a home for four other people.
Some women seem to be able to handle all the other stuff as well, but whether by temperament or sheer inability, I was not up to that. I feel like neither fish nor fowl. I am not completely content working a little and making a home, but neither am I able to swim with the bigger fish. Either the Peter principle has kicked in, or I've got a lot of catching up to do. I guess we'll see!
I am also the Martha type who fusses and putters around the house, cleaning and cooking. Of course, somebody has to do those things, and because of tradition, inclination, skill, and time, it falls to me rather than my husband. (And yes, I appreciate going to the bank and withdrawing money that his effort, and not mine, put in there.) It's long been my argument that men have been able to be the more prominent thinkers and doers in this world because they have women at home taking care of the necessities of life. I don't much admire Thoreau because while he was at Walden, he lived only 1 1/2 miles from home, his mother did his laundry, and she kept him supplied with food. It was hardly the lonely hardscrabble self-sufficient life Thoreau painted it. I don't think he was trying to mislead his readers; I think he really thought he had it rough and considered the support his family gave him as his due.
But now we come to something I have written about before: my woeful lack of meaningful work experience. I am trying to get to the point where I can earn enough money writing that I can quit my part-time store job. I have been rejected by a couple of places, and the last item I wrote and submitted was returned as all wrong. I panicked: is it the Peter principle finally at work in my life? (The Peter principle is that everyone rises to the level of his incompetence. In other words, at some point you're going to be in over your head.) I asked for some direction from the editor, and he gave it to me. I rewrote the piece, and re-submitted it, but I fear that it is too intellectually lightweight for his website.
So, I am very sad, but what can I do? Rather than bone up on all things political, work my way from the newsroom to the anchor desk, and network at trade association meetings, for the last twenty-five years I've made a home for four other people.
Some women seem to be able to handle all the other stuff as well, but whether by temperament or sheer inability, I was not up to that. I feel like neither fish nor fowl. I am not completely content working a little and making a home, but neither am I able to swim with the bigger fish. Either the Peter principle has kicked in, or I've got a lot of catching up to do. I guess we'll see!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
