Bob and I are standing with our arms around each other’s waist, watching the morning sunlight flit across Mallet Pond. We walked a few miles to get here this morning. That’s the only way a person can get in to this section of the state land. It is one of the most beautiful places in Schoharie County, but you have to do a little work to find it.
Mallet Pond is as embedded in our marriage as our wedding vows. We would hike here when we first began dating, back in those days when money truly was no object.
…Which is not to say we had money. We didn’t. We had dreams instead, with no comprehension of what trades or sacrifices might be necessary to attain them. That time in my life was an epoch of blessed ignorance, where my dreams had no boundaries to push against. I remember sitting beside Mallet Pond and drifting off into my private reveries, where I imagined how some day, we would own the farm up the road from Mom and Dad’s, and at the same time, we’d have a house on a giant Adirondack lake, or maybe we’d have a house on the ocean in Maine…Someplace isolated and beautiful, but definitely someplace on the water. And somehow, I would manage to be all those places at once. And, of course, in addition to keeping the family farm operational, I was also going to write essays and novels. They would flow as easily as the water, pouring out of me, resulting in an endless stream of money that would fund our every whim.
Money had started to become an object when it was time to buy our first house. Affordability and proximity to Sap Bush ultimately governed our decisions more than proximity to water. When it was time to get married, we eloped to an inn on the coast of Maine. We were able to scratch together enough pennies to afford two nights’ stay so we could exchange our vows before a JP while standing above the ocean waves on the tail end of a blizzard. The turbulent sky and waters didn’t phase me. They were beautiful. In my dreams, after a few smash-hit books, we’d have our own stunning cottage overlooking these waters, where I could ruminate and write to my hearts’ content.
A little over a year later, we returned to that inn during summer, celebrating my completion of grad school. We were camping nearby, trespassing on the inn’s private walking paths, doing our best to blend in with the capri pants and pinpoint button-downs that populated the trails. We found the rocky ledge where we exchanged our vows, I looked out over the water, and, with Bob holding my hand, I let myself have a good cry.
I cried because, for the first time, I realized that we were choosing a life that had limits. We wouldn’t end up in a charming seaside cottage. We wouldn’t have a cabin on a lake in the Adirondacks. Furthermore, books wouldn’t pour out of me like water. We wouldn’t even have steady paychecks or retirement benefits. We’d help Mom and Dad eviscerate chickens, our summer Saturdays would be spent hauling coolers to farmers’ markets, I’d have to work in the pre-dawn hours if I was going to write anything, and our children might never see salt water during weather when it was warm enough to splash in it.
I wasn’t crying because I regretted these choices. I was just saying goodbye to the parts of my dreams that didn’t exactly fit in with the ones I co-created with the rest of my family. I realized that I could relentlessly pursue the dream of writing beside the water’s edge, but without the dreams I’d conjured with my loved ones, I’d have nothing to write about.
But I remember those early dreams while Bob and I are beside Mallet Pond this morning. And as the water ripples and restores my spirit during this harried week, I am happy for them. I am also happy that books don’t write themselves, that my days are not sterile enough to enable full-time devotion to that craft. Because if books wrote themselves, I wouldn’t feel the unbridled pleasure that unfolds after heavily considered words finally paint something vivid across the page. I wouldn’t appreciate the pre-dawn oasis where I cultivate my imagination away from the chaos of farm, cafe and family.
And I am happy that I don’t gaze out at the water without having to take a mindful hike to get to it. If the water were out my front door, I might stop seeing it. Or, worse, I would see it when I was reviewing payroll documents, or while talking to the insurance agent or accountant. And I would see it when Mom’s doctor called to discuss test results. Or I would see it as I was trying to fly through the emails piling up in my inbox, or as I paid the bills, or worked to coordinate my kids’ schedules.
There are all those things that are my family, that are my community, that are shared dreams — the people, the pastures, the livestock, the farmers’ market, the gardens, the cafe. But then, on the periphery of every day, there are those things that are mine, where the phone can’t ring, where voices can’t interrupt: quiet moments beside the water, a few silent hours chipping away at a novel or penning essays. Those things don’t come easily. I have to work hard to find them. And on this morning beside the water, I appreciate that constant labor. Because in taking measures to seek them out, I remain mindful of who I am, separate from all those things that make me part of everything else. I am the daughter, the cook, the wife, the mother, the, the teacher, business manager, the farmer, the housekeeper, the driver, the lawn mower, the plumber, the butcher….roles I’ve co-constructed with people I love.
But I’m also the woman beside the water with the pen. And she’s all mine.
Hardest things to do:
“This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.”
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet
I admire you.
Very wise quote, Anita. Those words speak truth louder than one can even fathom. It’s so important to never lose sight of one’s own self and to always remain true to who you are. I think this story is a light in showing that it is possible even with all that can go on in life amongst all the changes and ups and downs. I too admire her.
the daughter, the cook, the wife, the mother, the, the teacher, business manager, the farmer…. the amazing neighbor, friend and host, civic cheerleader, visionary, wonderful writer and inspiration.
I am very grateful to know you and your family. I admire you but not often enough in person… see you later this summer. Un abrazo.
Wow, a first – I didn’t cry over this post. But it made me smile – thank you! Good for you for carving out a time and place that is yours alone – nice reminder to us all to do likewise.
I agree we let life get a hold of our life at times and we forget to step back and look at the beauty out life actually is.
So well put, I think that God and world really counts on us all being ignorant and full of ourselves, otherwise we may just clam up and hole up and never venture out. The things we do especially as mom reminds me of all those silly things we have titles for , here are some of my favorite ha-has
Household CEO
Masters & PhD in Patience
Familial Law Enforcer
Non-TV Activity Coordinator
English Language Educator
Playground Medic
President of Waste Management
Fast Food Chef
Tantrum & Meltdown Negotiator
Search & Rescue: Small Plastic Pieces Unit
Chief Monster Hunter
College Application Adviser
Doll Doctor
Archaeologist Specializing in Under Bed and Inside Closet Digs
Teen Sex Counselor
Spiritual Leader
Backyard Safety Commissioner
Toy Repair Specialist
Art Critic
Philanthropist for Little People’s Arts & Music
Teenage Dating Expert
Chief Drug Counselor
Anger Management Specialist
Toddler Tantrum Wrestling Champ
Playdate Social Secretary
CEO, Department of Make Believe
Manners Expert
Personal Shopper
Fashion Stylist & Consultant
Professor, Imagination Studies
Sleep Scientist (work mostly night shifts)
Teen Angst Psychoanalyst
Captain, Soccer Mom Cheerleading Squad
Dental Hygienist
Tooth Brushing Instructor
Keeper of Top Secret Secrets (pinkie swear!)
Personal Chauffeur & Expert Driver
Hairstylist (specializing in pigtails and wiggly clients)
Birthday Party Planner
President of (Insert Your Kid’s Name Here) Fan Club
Of course there are many more, enough for
To borrow the words of others from the Huffington Post and else where-
“One life is all we have to live and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are…that is a fate more terrible than dying.“
-Joan Of Arc
Be Bold, Be Brave.
Kiri Westby
Live life to the fullest, but live it with kindness, love and joy!
Me “)
These titles are so great, Tatiana! I got a good laugh out of some of them. They are all so true for many mothers and I conclude that you are an awesome woman. All of these titles make you who you are. It’s important to always remember that those titles hold great significance and that you are the only one who can give them meaning and power. Never forget who you truly are and of course, always live life to the fullest. Great post!
Bravo. This is beautiful.
Once again, you have written words that touch my heart and warm my soul. Thank you! From another woman who keeps a part of herself to herself, and who has let go of many dreams for the fullness of co-dreams.
This is only my second article of by her that I have read and I agree she is amazing with her words. They some how just flow so elegantly into a beautiful story that makes one self reflect their own life.
Such a great post as usual! I admire your life stories and I think this one is a very special piece in finding out who you truly are. Although things changed drastically for you and your husband, you didn’t allow those things to hold you back from doing what you truly love and who you love doing it with. All the hustle and bustle of daily life with the worry of all that goes on in it can be very distracting. The fact that you can still get away from time to time makes it all worth while. Those few moments where you can still enjoy just being alone with your own thoughts and escaping for a while by the water are so special and should be forever treasured. You seem to have a great and joyful life. You are blessed!
WOW! This is so beautifully written and such an eye opener for someone with dreams of beautiful scenery in her future. Photography is one of my passions and wanting to live some place where it is always something new to see has been a dream of mine since I was younger. Listening to the point you made about paying bills and seeing the sight you dreamed of out of your front window and not grasping its full beauty because it would of become your norm made me rethink my dream. If I lived somewhere that I amt think is perfect in sight would probably get normal after a while and the beauty I thought I had found may go missing. Traveling to places of beauty may make the experience so much more rewarding!