Tuesday morning was my son's first full day of kindergarten. I felt a strange quiet, empty feeling for quite some time after arriving to work. Yes, the quiet was good for staying focused on the project at hand. And yes, the "emptiness" reminded me I wasn't being bombarded with questions from a 5-year-old mind at 10 minute intervals. However, for eight hours of that day my son was interacting, learning, playing and doing a myriad of things that I was not a part of...and that marks a passage out of a stage I've loved. Albeit not a perfect stage, living it as a full-time working mother; but with the flexibility to be there, available for my son and mothering him as my priority.
The passing into this new stage of parenthood struck me rather profoundly and brought to the surface reflections that all of us, whether parents or not, can benefit from.
That Tuesday morning I was feeling empty because I felt a certain loss of identity as a mom. However, at the same time, after pushing in to the quiet and empty feeling, I came out on the other side of a renewed larger sense of identity. We are parents, but not only such. We are spouses, but not only; employee, friend, volunteer, etc., but not only.
The moment we identify ourselves with what we do over who we are, we've essentially lost our personal identity. And even those aspects of who we are that do last our entire lifetime - child, sibling, friend, spouse, parent - need to be a part of our identity even when we're not directly acting in said role. I'm still a mother even when I'm not actively mothering; still a child even when my parents have passed on.
Identity is largely founded on our relationships with others. I believe just as important a foundation is our identity in solitude - not related to anyone or anything outside ourselves. In fact, when we ONLY are what we are to others, we can't enrich any other person very profoundly...because we are dependant on them for our life's meaning.
What about our personal talents, dreams, fears, aspirations? Where and how do those fit in? What we do and how we interact with others should be an expression of who we are; a painting of sorts that describes the inner landscape of that area, fenced in and possessed by ourselves alone, that is staked out as our "inner core".
This all sounds a little philosophical, but we need a good dose of existential reflection. And a good dose can go a long way in practical, daily life.
Let's end this reflection on a practical note: What activities have I engaged in over the past few days that don't conform to who I am, either personally or relationally? What activities have I spent time and effort in that are an accurate expression of who I am? How can I increase those accurate expressions and rectify the non-conforming?
