I know that being a wife and a mom means that moments like this are often few and far between, and I've tried to let go of my desire for them. I've tried to give up my self, these longings for just a few still moments every day where I can consult with my soul and my God and pull some of those loose ends together. And I've tried to embrace the constant company that having a husband and children mean. After all, I don't want to be all alone in life.
And yet I still feel myself called to moments like this. I still find myself taking time alone when I can't make it, trying to sacrifice other things even when they're not things I want to sacrifice. And I begin to wonder if at least some time like this, time to wander in my thoughts, time to muse and pray and read and write where there's not much separation between all of those things, I begin to wonder if it's a need and not just a desire, a necessity and not something extra.
But I'm such a good introvert that I'll take almost any time alone that I can get. Some people hoard money and I will hoard time, if give the chance. It's my treasure, the one thing I get all dragon-toothed and scaly-winged when people try to steal. I've thought lots of different things about this over the years: that having all the time alone that I want is good and valid, that it's bad and selfish, that I ought to be with my daughter or my husband, because our time together is limited.
There's truth on all sides, I think. Many things are good in moderation and somewhat less good in excess. But the same is true the other way, too. If too much is bad for the soul, too little usually is, as well. And I think that's where I've fallen off the cart in these months since motherhood found me: in trying to give up myself, I've tried to sacrifice something essential. At least for me, not having unstructured time alone is like trying not to eat, ever again. It might be okay for a couple of days, but it will destroy me if I keep it up.