Gypsy Spirit

I am the Handmaiden of Change, a Change Whore, the Mistress of Change, any number of appellations describe this secret malady aptly. I have settled down only in incidentals and on the surface of things. If we met on the street, or (hopefully) at a cocktail party, you'd observe this --married mother of three, nice house, good job, loving husband --settled down.

But ah, the misdeeds of my youthful gypsy spirit live on! And not just the sins of the past (though they are sundry and legion) but more the energy of the thing – the inner fire that won't let me settle on any one idea or place or home for long. I need change like others need stability. It keeps me alive and alert and unburied in the ordinariness of things. The lovely ordinariness, the prosaic loveliness of the every day that I at once embrace, adore, and utterly despise.

It is in the end the unknown hopefulness of my future enlightenment that I long for, those moments of total absorption and fullness that seem to live in the space between mortgage payments and peanut butter sandwiches. The liminal possibilities of future joy.

And in the world of Mother, where stability, consistency, and loving constancy are the three pillars, I act against my usual inclinations in favor of providing that loving container of safety and devotion that all children require.

My gypsy spirit lives on, but she hibernates. For now.

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Rachael is CrankMama, mother of three daughters and aspiring gypsy in beautiful Bellingham, WA. I'm lucky enough to have her visit today as part of the monthly Blog Exchange. You'll find my post on this month's theme over at Rachael's place today--please go visit!