So. I'm reading A Feast For Crows, that is the 4th book in the Game of Thrones series. I am fed up with the whole thing. I don't give a care, to use an idiom. But it got me to thinking: what of the afterlife?
My stance is: there is none. To quote REM: "you die, you turn to dust." I don't know which came first, my disillusionment with christianity or my conclusion that science had it right: energy can neither be created nor destroyed. So I think when you die you turn to dust and your energy is used elsewise...what happens to your "mind" I don't know. I personally think it disolves and moves on, energy wise. As a result, and as a result of having had a child, I think therefor: live every day as full as you can as the person you are, knowng that there is a finite end, whenever it may come. Because at a certain point, your life will come to an end.
Heck, even if you belive in heaven, at a certain point your life as you know it will end. Is it not awesome? So live it to its fullest.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Tuesday, 10 July 2012
Rock and roll all night
...because every day is taken up with the care of my wonderful almost-five-month old baby. It's a trip:
My baby girl is a blessing, not because my life would be less without her but because she is an addition that brings it to another level. I chose to try to have a child after years of being convinced that I didn't want to have kids. Heck, I still don't want to have kids. I want to have kid, singular, which is what I have. It is every individual's choice (or should be) to have or have not. Clearly there are factors that weigh in that may weigh against one's preference but what I am trying to say is people who choose not to have children should have their decision respected with as little thought as those who choose to have children are given. Do you know what I mean? People who choose to have children are seldom questioned as to the rightness of their decision. People who choose not to have children are always questioned. It's bullshit. People who choose not to have children lead lives that are as full and complete as those who have children, it's just that they are different lives, different choices.
Having a child teaches you selflessness. But it's not exactly as I thought it would be. It's not some saintly, altruistic, Mother Theresa kind of selflessness; rather, it's a sidelining of one's own wants and desires until such time as the baby's needs are met. It's all against my better will. And a baby's needs are LEGION. They are many, and they are constant. My husband and I haven't had enough time to ourselves, or to each other, since our baby has been born. We talk about it, we weigh in, we bump heads and we shake hands, realising that this time in our kid's life is but a stage. It's hard, it's very hard, but it will pass someday and will be gone. Take the video now, damn it! Which brings me to the point of this post- I never write in my journal anymore. I miss it. It's as much a part of me as reading and spending time alone is. And yet I have effectively given it up in the past four months because I have been 24-7 busy with a tiny baby. It makes me sad, but as with everything else, I figure its time will come again. In the meantime, I blog. (And I dream of time alone. The dream gets more and more elaborate so that now, I am up to spending a week alone in an isolated cabin the woods. Heck, maybe I'll have to hunt for food, who knows.)
My baby girl always wakes up happy. This is an incredible thing, and it eases all stresses. Even when I wake her prematurely from a spontaneous nap (which I should be taking full advantage of, but can't as I have houseguests to entertain) she is all smiles and laughs, albeit slower and with much blinking and head nodding. She's a lovey, and she melts my heart every time I pick her up from her crib. I am very lucky and I know it. Plus she has super fun sticky-uppy hair.
I am still petrified of dying and always will be I think. I was once foolish enough to think that having a child would cure that. Now I am petrified of death for two! I would be devastated if my husband were to die; I would be annihilated if my baby were to die. On the flipside (I can say no more on the subject of death), having a child doesn't shift my life's aim, it simply adds another parallel stream. I haven't given over my life for hers; she is joining the parallel streams alongside my husband, my mother, my sister and the rest of my extended and natural family.
...Now if I only had a job to go back to after mat leave!! (cue suspense music)
My baby girl is a blessing, not because my life would be less without her but because she is an addition that brings it to another level. I chose to try to have a child after years of being convinced that I didn't want to have kids. Heck, I still don't want to have kids. I want to have kid, singular, which is what I have. It is every individual's choice (or should be) to have or have not. Clearly there are factors that weigh in that may weigh against one's preference but what I am trying to say is people who choose not to have children should have their decision respected with as little thought as those who choose to have children are given. Do you know what I mean? People who choose to have children are seldom questioned as to the rightness of their decision. People who choose not to have children are always questioned. It's bullshit. People who choose not to have children lead lives that are as full and complete as those who have children, it's just that they are different lives, different choices.
Having a child teaches you selflessness. But it's not exactly as I thought it would be. It's not some saintly, altruistic, Mother Theresa kind of selflessness; rather, it's a sidelining of one's own wants and desires until such time as the baby's needs are met. It's all against my better will. And a baby's needs are LEGION. They are many, and they are constant. My husband and I haven't had enough time to ourselves, or to each other, since our baby has been born. We talk about it, we weigh in, we bump heads and we shake hands, realising that this time in our kid's life is but a stage. It's hard, it's very hard, but it will pass someday and will be gone. Take the video now, damn it! Which brings me to the point of this post- I never write in my journal anymore. I miss it. It's as much a part of me as reading and spending time alone is. And yet I have effectively given it up in the past four months because I have been 24-7 busy with a tiny baby. It makes me sad, but as with everything else, I figure its time will come again. In the meantime, I blog. (And I dream of time alone. The dream gets more and more elaborate so that now, I am up to spending a week alone in an isolated cabin the woods. Heck, maybe I'll have to hunt for food, who knows.)
My baby girl always wakes up happy. This is an incredible thing, and it eases all stresses. Even when I wake her prematurely from a spontaneous nap (which I should be taking full advantage of, but can't as I have houseguests to entertain) she is all smiles and laughs, albeit slower and with much blinking and head nodding. She's a lovey, and she melts my heart every time I pick her up from her crib. I am very lucky and I know it. Plus she has super fun sticky-uppy hair.
I am still petrified of dying and always will be I think. I was once foolish enough to think that having a child would cure that. Now I am petrified of death for two! I would be devastated if my husband were to die; I would be annihilated if my baby were to die. On the flipside (I can say no more on the subject of death), having a child doesn't shift my life's aim, it simply adds another parallel stream. I haven't given over my life for hers; she is joining the parallel streams alongside my husband, my mother, my sister and the rest of my extended and natural family.
...Now if I only had a job to go back to after mat leave!! (cue suspense music)
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