An Essay Needs a Conclusion

I think I might quit my job.
I'm bored.
I don't feel challenged by it.
I think my talents may lie in other areas.
Here's the thing, though. My job? Stay-At-Home Mom.
Can't really "quit" being a full-time mom, can you? You could job share, maybe. But you never, ever just quit. Or if you do, you become the subject of afternoon talk shows and psychologically grueling first novels.

And the truth is, I don't want to quit being a mother. I love being a mom, I love my children - of course I do! But, come on, I'm an acronym - SAHM - and I really don't want to be labelled that easily. Never have wanted that. No one's life is that simple.

The past few months have been a transition for me back into the creative world of theater and art. I got cast in a play, a fairly big part in a fairly famous play. It's community theater, sure, but it's an opportunity to practice, to polish my skills, to use the degree I studied long and (sort of) hard for. And it's been a truly rewarding process. I feel like I needed to grow up and experience more of life to really open up as an actress, and finally I'm at a place where I can do my chosen art at a level I am proud of.

However, my art required me to be away from my kids 4 or 5 nights a week for six weeks of rehearsals, and now that we're in performance I'm away at least one night a weekend. This is a huge change for me, and for our family. We've all adjusted, but it hasn't been easy.

Then, last weekend, I went even further. I took a solo trip to New York. A play I had a hand in writing was being produced as part of a minor festival in an old and storied Off-Off Broadway theater.  I was in New York for about 36 hours total - I saw the play produced, I met friends new and old over several drinks, and had a delightful dinner with my in-laws at an Afghan restaurant in the East Village. It was a whirlwind. It changed me. Or more correctly, it reminded me of who I am and what I want to be and do.

I flew back to Albuquerque on Fathers Day, had a delightful date with my partner without the kids (his one Fathers Day request!) and then went to the theater for that evening's performance. I was exhausted, but high on the idea that my life had, for about 48 hours, been about nothing but Art.

I woke up on Monday morning with an Art hangover and a Reality cold shower. I didn't want to be home taking care of my kids. I wanted to be hanging out with smart adults talking about theater and creativity. I was angry to be here. Naturally, I felt a crushing sense of guilt.

Now what?

I wish I had a good answer. These blogs are essays and, as any high school English teacher would tell you, essays need solid conclusions.  Don't they?

One question I was asked over and over again in New York was a variation of "What are you writing now?" My answer was either "nothing, really..." or "there's a blog," or the unfortunate cop-out "I have kids." None of these answers were honest. I do write this blog, but I don't write it regularly enough for it to be a Blog. I have received unbelievable encouragement from friends and family and truly surprising praise from people I've never met. I see that this blog and it's voice has an audience, and that if I committed more time it could really be Something.

But, whenever I am asked why I don't write more often, I take the coward's way out. I blame my kids.

My kids are not keeping me from writing. The truth is I'm entering essay territory where there are no easy conclusions. If I don't know where I'm going, how can I ask others to get in the car?

But, maybe you want to take that risk. Who am I to stop you?

We may be heading off the familiar Moms-who-blog road. I'm warning you now.
But, look, I'm more than a mom. We all are. We are, in essence, creators.
I'm heading out on a new journey toward Shamelessly Imperfect Creativity. This essay - without a conclusion -is the first step.