Before I had my daughter, I was lost in a maze of mirrors. At every angle, I’d see a new face reflected eternally, like a scene in one of those crime dramas where the hero shoots the villian in the maze and only shatters the glass. The villian’s laughter can be heard, even seen. But we don’t know what’s real, what’s reflection.
I kept asking the mirrors Who am I? What am I doing here? What do I want? Who’s asking these questions?
It seemed as though hours, years, decades of time yawned before me in infinite reflection. I was pulled against my will into its hungry, empty, sharpened jaws.
I did not have a baby to fill my time or complete my sense of self. I had one because I heard a calling in my heart and I accepted that calling without expectation.
Now that she’s here, however, time has taken on new dimensions, new value. There never seems to be enough. Seriously, if you asked me right now to choose between a 5 carat sapphire and 5 hours of free time to do what I want, I would choose the hunk of time.
I’d spend it lavishly on myself, reading that new novel by Miranda July, while soaking in a hot bubble bath. I’d do a meditation, get a massage, make love, take a yoga class, write this blog, feed, feed, feed myself with beauty.
Suddenly, now that time is scarce, I know exactly what I want to do. I know who Tai is. She is ready to saturate the world with her juices and she is a lot less afraid of what people think.
She is learning, through the fierce initiation of motherhood, that time has a texture, like dough, that can be kneaded and expanded. It’s the raw stuff of existence that you can shape by hand.
I’m not going to take on more than I can chew with this time thing. But I promise to make it. For myself.
And the infinite reflection?
Maybe it’s all there is. Now, that doesn’t scare me one bit.