I’ve not really thought a whole lot about motherhood until recently. I’ve thought about my mom a fair bit, over the years, but not about motherhood as a concept. I’m sure that I don’t understand it, but I believe I may be beginning to feel it. Maybe that’s just a more general capacity I am shifting into as I spend more time out here, in the woods.
I’ve thought a lot about fatherhood, and I’ve felt a bit about it, too, but less than I should, and certainly less than I’m about to. I believe both of these concepts aren’t really things that can be fully understood rationally, they have to be experienced and felt.
I saw someone on social media today talking about how they wished they had become a mother sooner. They said this because they couldn’t have understood just how great it was until they were in it. They had to go through it to know.
It is not a series of facts, it is not data, it is spirit.
Another thing they asked that I have been thinking but not articulating is:
What is it I would be up to, if I weren’t starting a family with the person I love most?
It is not a series of facts, it is not data, it is spirit.
Another thing they asked that I have been thinking but not articulating is:
What else was I doing, anyways?
What is it I would be up to, if I weren’t starting a family with the person I love most?
None of these things are unappealing to me, but they are not really Good in the same way I expect parenting to be. Even from a purely selfish perspective what could I possibly do with my time that would be nearly as illuminating as having children? The glimpse it grants into truth and meaning and beauty and the very nature of what it means to be alive on this planet, in this universe, absolutely towers over any theology you can find in a book.