Timeless Choices

Christmas was just a couple of weeks ago, right? I remember thinking that I needed to write a post on books I’d loved in 2012, set some creative goals for 2013, and find a great birthday present for Mike to make up for the fact that my Christmas presents consisted of some basil seeds, my old broken kindle, and a child’s toy with a bite taken out it.

But now it’s April. I still need to do all of that, and Mike’s birthday was in the beginning of March.

I’m taking a deep, soothing breath and telling myself that this is to be expected when you live in a small town whose slogan is “Timeless”.

Granted, in Luang Prabang’s case I think the word timeless is really supposed to conjure up a majestic blend of old-world royal and shabby-quaint French colonialism. In this household, however, timeless could just as easily refer to the nebulous blur that settled in after Christmas when all of us were sick with bad colds or laid low with food poisoning and/or pregnancy nausea. Then there was (finally) the making of big decisions about what’s next. And then, sadly, Mike’s latest medical drama that has compressed moving and separation deadlines that already felt too imminent. 

Timeless means that I haven’t set any New Years Resolutions, or blogged much lately, or crossed off half of the things that were on February’s to-do list. It means that the major project on long distance relationships I’ve been investing time and energy into is going to be delayed yet again. It means that sometimes, when I’m scurrying around after Dominic, I pause to wonder what day of the week it is.

That’s usually the moment when Dominic throws the watering can into the neighbor’s fishpond and tries to dive in after it, or stuffs some unidentifiable berries into his mouth and swallows. 

I’m spending much of my days carrying around one baby on the inside and one baby on the outside. I’m helping Mike pre-pack our house in preparation for the move to Vientiane so he has to do as little as possible by himself post-surgery, I’m prepping Dominic to spend the next six months in Australia. Once we’re in Australia I’ll be very pregnant, parenting without Mike, and I will also (gasp) have to do my own laundry as well as a variety of other tasks that I vaguely remember are somewhat foundational to running a clean and functional household.

There just isn’t near enough time right now to do everything I want to be doing, and so this means that I have to make choices.

Do I play with Dominic or put him in front of the television so that I can write a blog post?

During precious baby nap times do I work on packing up our house, writing, consulting work, answering dozens of emails, or doing pregnancy yoga? Or do I listen to what my pregnant body wants to do and lie down on the bed?

With regards to the bigger picture, do I continue working as a consultant or put a pause on that to focus more on creative endeavors? Should I be trying to write another novel? Do I push hard to launch the Modern Love Long Distance website that I’ve been cooking up before the baby comes, or delay it until January 2014?

That last decision has been on my mind a lot during the last two weeks.

I really want to see Modern Love Long Distance launched and growing. It’s already been almost a year in the planning, and the only major creative project I’ve invested in lately. I want to grow something that doesn’t need me to read the same story, take the same walk, and say the same thing over and over again. I also think there is a growing community of long distance lovers out there hungry for thoughtful information about the joys and challenges of their particular situations.

But.

I’m not sure I want to set in motion a project that could well take on a life of its own and demand more of my time and energy for writing, editing, liaising with contributors, and programming than I want to give right now. Not when I’m parenting without Mike. Not when I’m the size of a Shetland pony and being regularly kicked from the inside. Not when I’m also wanting to spend precious free time sleeping, or cooking, or chatting with my parents, or (sigh) doing laundry.

And then the new baby will arrive in August and my brain will disappear entirely for at least three months. This I know. Do I want to juggle breastfeeding a newborn and soliciting contributors? Or do I want to relax into this season that will probably never come again and give it, and myself, a little more room to breathe?

I really don’t know. I haven’t yet untangled whether my current desire to launch Modern Love stems mostly from the cosmic creative spark that’s worth sacrificing for, or from my own posse of inner “shoulds” that are whispering faster, better, and more.

I know that worthwhile passions and worthwhile tasks sometimes demand we show up when we don’t feel like it – when we’re tired, or overwhelmed, or pregnant. But I also know that sometimes I get “worthwhile” confused with “what’s best” – best for me and for the other big and little members of team McWolfe.

What’s best for me to focus on in the next two weeks is clear. Packing. Sitting by Mike’s bedside. Trying to tempt a Dominic to eat, and keeping him from pressing any “Code Blue” buttons in the hospital or dashing into Bangkok traffic. Not losing my cool when our little autocrat loses his because I have said no to riding the escalators for the 238^th time in a row.

But after that … we’ll see.

What sort of timeless choices are you making right now?
What helps you distinguish “worthwhile” from “best” when it comes to how you spend your time?