Wearing Our Passion

Today I took a look at my husband's med student uniform - white lab coat, stethoscope, name badge, topped off with a kind smile. I couldn't help but smile back, knowing that this is the man that thousands of patients will find themselves face to face with. I know he'll use his presence of mind and body to help them feel better, and I'm really proud of him.

As I was giving our little one a bath, I found my mind wandering towards a question I've never really pondered: if my passion had a uniform, what would it be? 

Nope, it's not a life or death question. Not even close to critical. But I think we've established here at "But I'm a Mom" that there are no questions too small or seemingly stupid for your consideration. 

So, back to the question. If I were to create a visual identity for my passion, what would that visualization include? 

Here's the details I have in mind:

- acrylic paint on my fingers and clay in my cuticles. 

- a pencil, pen and notebook in my pocket

- clothes with actual pockets (because women's clothes have a serious lack of pocketage, am I right?!)

- shoes would be optional :)

And now, it's your turn: what would you wear for your passion?

A Bit of Backstory

My knee-jerk opener to this entry would be, "So sorry to have taken this long to update," but you know what? You are a Mom too, and you'd probably understand that my son's three-sleepless-night battle with teething pain let the wind out of my blogger sails. So, I'm not sorry. Momming happens.

While my blog update schedule has not followed its intended course, my update topic still can. If you'll humor me, I think it's important to share with you a bit about what has made me who I am today, so that if you choose to read my future updates, you'll have some context. 

The basics? 

Hi there. I'm Cathlene, a 25 year old wife and mom of an 8.5 month old little boy. 

I live in Switzerland, supporting my husband (who I met via arranged marriage within my faith of the Unification Church - but that's another story) in his path as a med-student, but I grew up in Northern New Jersey with my Mom and my special needs older brother. 

Hm. The basics are already pretty complicated. But that's true of everyone in some way.

I was raised in the deeply supportive, nurturing nest my Mom painstakingly built for her children. Despite being thrown challenge after challenge - being told as a child that she had no professional future, dropping out of high school, giving birth to a child with Down's Syndrome, and her husband suddenly passing away - she always managed to keep this glowing ember of hope inside her, and it filled my life with warmth and optimism. She taught me to stay mindful of life's small beauties, yet she always encouraged me to have big ambitions, even if they weren't lucrative. Her steadfast support followed me through my love of horses, through theatre, through non-profit performing arts-based HIV education, to film, to... whatever it is I'm doing now.

I was on the fast track to a life of creative altruism, double majoring in Communications and Global Peace & Justice Studies in hopes of harnessing the arts and the media to create peace. Just months after obtaining my degrees, my Mom suddenly passed away, following my late father of 20 years to heaven. I was left responsible for my brother. A couple of months after that, my husband and I found out we were expecting our first child. Somewhere in this whirlwind of sudden adulthood, I lost my space to dream. Dreaming felt stupid, because I was sure to be disappointed somehow, either by the realities of life or by my own thoughts of inadequacy. 

It's not to say that my new role as a caretaker has killed my dreams. No way. Au contraire, being a parent has unearthed emotions I never before felt, whether it was helping my brother to mourn our Mom in his own way, or hearing my son laugh for the first time. My library of inspiration is volumes richer. 

That being said, it's tough to greet each day with the same vigor as before my abrupt end of childhood and beginning of parenthood. 

My husband pushes me to continue following my dreams, but his goals surpass mine in their immediacy and need for support themselves. After all, someone's got to take care of the baby, and the house, and my brother's wellbeing, and money certainly doesn't grow on trees. And yet, there's still this beast clawing at me from inside, desperate to re-inject me with passion, and for me to inject others too, so we can make things genuinely better here on earth. Daily life can be so smothering though, and I don't know how to escape it.

My mom's final birthday gift to me was a writing kit. She believed I had stories inside me that the world needed to hear. I don't want to let her, or the world, down.

So there you have it.

"But I'm a Mom."

I've said those four words many times. Perhaps you have too. 

It's not an empty statement; Motherhood is the ultimate standard for full-time occupation. Who else is on call 24/7/365, ready to meet her child's every need? Who else will eat her kid's half-eaten food, will clean up mess after mess after mess, and will stubbornly ignore how many collective hours of sleep she's lost in helping her child reach dreamland? 

Motherhood is hard, but there's nothing like its rewards. Our children's little smiles and giggles or their newly reached milestones flood us with joy, and the little moments of bonding remind us of how blessed we are to be Moms.

But then there are those moments when something shoots a pang of longing through our hearts. A longing for more. Sometimes it's a false pang fabricated by our guilt-driven, "Mommy Wars" society that loves to tell us that, for whatever reason, we're not good enough as Moms. Those pangs are better off being ignored. 

But other times, that longing is real, from deep within.

What some Moms don't talk about, whether it'a because they are too busy to bother mulling over it or out of despair that things won't change, is that we are all more than Moms. 

Yes, some might call that statement impertinent. More than a Mom? Isn't parenthood supposed to be one of the highest callings of human existence? Aren't our kids our greatest life work? Is the rest really that important?

Yes. It is.

You are a Mom - a brilliant, patient, unconditionally loving vessel, offering your child their first knowledge of what love and goodness means. 

But that is just one of many facets in the jewel you wear on your chest called your Identity. And while your facet of Mom is surely shining bright, maybe those other facets aren't so polished. But they're there, ready to shine your inner light through. A one faceted jewel doesn't sparkle much, but multiple facets allow for true radiance.

I am starting this blog because I am DONE with hearing my heart repeat those same four, tired old words. I am a Mom, and I am so much more. Dozens of dreams are clawing at me from inside, urging me to participate in this life with much more profundity. 

This blog is not only to hold myself accountable for kicking that phrase to the curb, but to help you do the same. Together, we can infuse our world with many shining facets, and shine forth the light this world so desperately needs. 

Yours.

So tell me - what else are you? 

What do you feel passionate about?

What do you love that you used to do, or perhaps you've had to put aside for now?

What songs, stories or messages do you carry inside that you'd love to share with the world? 

I'd be honored to hear from you.