Who Am I?

Periodically I find myself requiring some confirmation of just exactly who I am and what I am trying to accomplish in this relatively short time I am given here on earth.  Am I the only woman who ever feels this way?

I think some women have it easier than others in this regard.  'Tis a gift to be simple.  Those of us with myriad interests and ambitions can find it harder.  I find myself wishing I had several different lives to live.

In one, I would be like one of my college piano professors, whose living room was empty but for the wall to wall CD shelves.  He went to the church of Tower Records every Sunday morning.  The furniture in his home was scant but for a Hamburg Steinway and a few chairs for visitors.  Any empty hours easily filled with practice and study.

In another I might be like Martha Stewart minus the jail term and the hair cut.  I would wander around my garden and home tweaking things until they were all set for the photo shoot.  Weekends would be spent at flee markets and small town Iowa antique shows.  I could have hundreds of cats.

The next life might find me a stay at home mom making cookies timed to come out of the oven when the bus pulled up.  Family dinners "Leave it to Beaver" style.

Another life would be late night gigs, sleeping late and drinking coffee in bed all morning. No children . . .

I probably could have been happy doing a lot of different things in my life.  I even enjoyed working at the bank with my Dad during summer vacations.

Pastor Bohlman made it sound so clear back in eighth grade confirmation.  If we keep our priorities as God intended we would always be happy--and to him that order was clear:

• God
• Spouse  (if you have one)
• Children (if you have them)
• Other family and friends
• Job
• Hobbies

At least that is how I remember it.  I could pull out my notes scratched into Luther's Small Catechism in 1980 to confirm. .. 

But here we are in 2011 and it doesn't always seem that clear.  Things are different now.  Women juggle more things.  Because we have more choices, life can seem more difficult.  More fragmented. 

Upon further reflection I circle back to the list. I believe in the list.  I think of the energy that I put into my family and my home, my studio and my music study.  My faith.  All the choices we make, all along the way, large and small define who we are.  If I hadn't had three really flaky serious boyfriends break my heart I might not have seen the gem I found in my husband.  When my Dad got sick I started writing on Caring Bridge, I learned that writing is very therapeutic to me.  If my college French Horn teacher hadn't yelled at me and made me cry I might not remember how fragile we all can be.

Sometimes the sad things that come along make us stronger and more sure of what is important to us.  We are all on a journey and there are no limits to how far we will go.   If I had a wall of CD's and a Hamburg Steinway I might not have my husband.  I wouldn't have Calvin and Mary.  I wouldn't have a studio of children with beautiful hearts who happen to play the piano extremely well. I wouldn't be playing piano for a church choir that makes me feel like part of a community. I wouldn't have time for family and friends. I wouldn't have a garden and home that heals and frustrates me all at once. 

I wouldn't be me.