I'm Still Here

Sometimes I wonder why I have a blog. Trying to make sense of where I should find my value leads me to question why I keep putting myself out there. So I wade through the doubt to find what's good. The truth is I didn't start this blog for anyone else to read. I started it because I needed a place to keep track of my daily goings-on. I needed a place to cobble together a story about the beautiful things in my life. Along the way people have read and commented. I've made some friends whose encouragement seems endless. I have grown as a writer and photographer and, most importantly, as a person. And I continue to blog just because. I would keep doing it even if no one else looked at it but me.

A friend once sent me this quote:

"Art kept only for oneself is selfish. As human beings, we don't exist in a vacuum; we exist in communities and societies that rightfully demand dues. It's not an option to give those dues; it's a duty."

This space is one of many where I share what I consider to be my art. And there is the sprinkling in of my life, which in its own messy way cannot be separate from whatever I create. What I want for my life is to reflect a small portion of the beauty of the Creator. And that is why I'm still here.

Determining My Worth

Here's something that I struggle with: my accomplishments determining my self-worth. Let me explain.

I first wanted to be a writer because I loved writing. Then I wanted to be published so I could feel validated. Then I was published and people said nice things to me, and I felt good about myself. I first wanted to be a photographer because I liked taking pictures. Then I started posting my photography on the internet and people said nice things to me, and I felt good about myself.

Then I had a baby and realized I couldn't do it all. I inflated my online identity so people would think I was still awesome, and I continued to work even though sometimes it was killing me. When I would get little or no feedback, I was crushed. I needed the recognition.

It all came to a head when I realized I couldn't keep up. Working to get accolades wasn't adding to my quality of life; it was actually detracting from it.

So I stopped. I took a break from writing, decided that I wasn't going to teach anymore, and got a small job working behind the scenes for a website. Of course, this all happened in tandem with our move. In New York, I was determined to slow down, be a stay-at-home mom, and work part-time from home. I also cut way back on my social networking, especially Facebook, which seemed to propel this need for feedback.

When I read The Spirit of Food, I would read through each writer's bio before reading his or her essay. After a while the bios all started to look the same: where the writer went to school, where the writer has been published, what the writer does for employment. These are important components to each writer's life, but when listed one after another, it all starts looking the same. I thought a lot about what my bio would look like, or what it should look like.

Today's Curator includes an essay where the writer looks closer at this idea in the context of blogs and the way the glimpse they provide into other people's lives can diminish our feelings of self-worth:

The height of my Womanhood is not measured by what I do, but who I am. The quality of my character is not measured with a yardstick, nor by the height of my tomato plants. The real fruit of life is not found in traffic numbers or tutorials, but in the qualitative depth of living in love.

It's taken me a long time to finally accept that my value as a person is steeped in my character and in God. Those things don't require anyone to give me feedback and say nice things about me; they require me to love others and accept myself. Whether I ever publish another essay or post another photograph is a separate issue, one that shouldn't determine my value or worth.

Time Together

When I was a child I thought adults had nothing to worry about. I thought that once you reach adulthood all of the challenges of growing up were over so life must get easier. I thought this even though my parents got divorced.

I guess they hid the tough-ness of adulthood pretty well because any of us who are adults know that it isn't easy. I'm not here to whine about it, but to say that it's hard work making all these adult decisions and balancing work and home and family.

This week was a tough one. It was the first week I had multiple writing deadlines and meetings, in addition to teaching. I used every spare moment to get everything that needed doing done. Every spare moment, that is, except for the ones that might interfere in our family time.

I realized that the one thing I'm unwilling to give up is quality time with Lily. I will give up exercise and time alone. I will give up sleep. But when I'm spending time with my daughter, that's all that I'm doing. I don't sit at the computer or make phone calls or think about looming deadlines. When I'm with Lily, I'm simply with Lily.

But Lily goes to mom's day out three days a week, on the two mornings I teach and one extra morning that is supposedly time for me (the last two weeks it wasn't). I have time to do my work while she's at "school." If I need to, I also work while she's napping or after she's gone to bed.

So when I'm home with Lily, that's it. We read and draw and play. We have handfuls of time together, and I try to make the most of it. The busier I get though, the less willing I am to give up that time with her. What I'm getting at is that I want to be the best mom I can and that's a priority over the other things in my life. I work hard and I don't miss deadlines, but Lily and Adam are always at the top of my list.

We're all happier that way.

Freelance Writer, Editor, Photographer

Today has not gone as planned. I thought I was going to tell you all about how much I want a Holga camera from Urban Outfitters. I was going to tell you that it's only $48 and then I was going to beg for volunteers to contribute to my Holga fund.

But no. Today, the day before the semester starts, I found out that one of my classes was canceled due to low enrollment, a slight blow to my family's economic well-being.

Today I also dropped off my slow-going roll of black and white film for processing at a local camera shop (not Walgreens, where I usually get my film processed). When I returned home with the negatives and the disc of photo scans, I was assaulted by all of the scratches on the scans. Look at these photos closely and you can see the scratches. See the one on my nose? And the white streak across the photos of Lily and Adam? It's more infuriating than losing one of my classes. And now I have to go back, ask what happened, and see if they can fix it. Irritating.

Anyway, about work . . .

Surprisingly, I have a peaceful feeling about it. Maybe it's an answer to prayer, an answer to the question of what do I with my life. One door is closing (well, halfway), and who knows what might open. I already have two leads on freelance work that came within minutes of learning about my canceled class. God's providence? I think so.

So I'm here to say, loud and clear, that I am available for freelance writing and editing work. I am also available for freelance photography work. If you have a lead, let me know.

I'm also here to say that I'll take any and all contributions to the Lindsay Crandall Holga Fund. Your contribution will ensure you receive a complimentary print or two of any of my photographs. And who doesn't want that?

Passion & Work

This is Lily's first finger painting. It has nothing to do with the rest of this post.

This was a big week for me, publishing-wise. I had two articles published in the local paper, one on a botanical drawing class with a local artist (I wish I was taking this class!) and the other about a local feed-the-homeless program called Loaves & Fish. Then, today, my latest essay went up at The Curator: "The Year of Journaling Fearlessly."

I'm learning that I really love to write. If I had my choice I would be doing a lot more of it, for pay and for myself. But, as you know, I also love photography and often consider what it might be like to have a photography business. Maybe sell prints (do people buy prints?) or shoot weddings. But I'm also a teacher, a job that is satisfying and also brings in a steady paycheck. But with teaching comes grading, and grading is a drag.

And I'm also a mom.

What a mix, right? I told Adam today that sometimes I'm very grateful to have such diverse interests because it never gets boring. On the other hand, I often feel unfocused and wish I had one passion that I was pursuing wholeheartedly, instead of a bunch of mini-passions.

The last few weeks, while I've had a break from teaching, I've been doing a lot of soul searching about all of this. I wish I could say that I've come up with the secret formula to determine how I should spend my time, the right mix of passion and income that somehow doesn't forsake family and friends. Has anyone figured this out? I haven't.

I will say that all the thinking and journaling and daydreaming I've done has helped me clarify where I might want to go. I want to write. I want to take photographs. I want to teach. I want to be a good mom. And I'm already on that path, so I just need to keep working hard and living what I love and have faith. What more can I do?

With Year's End . . .

With year's end comes excellent news: Adam passed his registry exam! When he returned home for the test yesterday, he was sure he had failed. What a relief to find he hadn't. And what cause for celebration as we move into the new year. In fact, we're having steaks with his coworkers tonight to celebrate.

Just yesterday I was giving a little thought to this past year. It was a hard year, a remarkable one, and one filled with so much unexpected joy and challenge. I took a peek at my old blog, just to see where I was a year ago, and I had to resist the urge to cringe. Life was so full of possibilities, and I bursting with hope that 2009 would be better than 2008. And it was -- I didn't lose my job, I carried a baby successfully to term, and I grew . . . a lot.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that 2009 was a year of transition and growth for me. With Lily came a lot of unanticipated changes. I knew that becoming a mother would be tough. I didn't know that it would change my relationships with people so dramatically. Some relationships have mended, while others have been torn apart. I'm learning how to love and forgive and move on.

This year, I also struggled to figure out that I can't do it all and that, maybe, I don't want to. And even though we don't intend to stay in Alabama for too much longer, I'm learning that it is important to bloom where you're planted, no matter where it is.

And though these are by no means set in stone, I do have a few intentions for 2010:

:: Make time for the table. I sort of envision this year being the year of the table. Our table has been sorely neglected and we have spent too much time (gasp!) eating in front of the TV. I'd also like to spend time there daily to pause and think and make notes and read and stare at the pink house next door.

:: Get in bed before I fall asleep. I'm embarrassed to admit how often Adam and I fall asleep while watching TV. I'm thinking about making a rule that we turn it off at 9, and either find something else to do (aka. read) or go to sleep because we're often wiped out by that hour anyway (yes, we're that cool).

:: Take a photo (almost) every day in 2010. More thoughts on this later.

:: Read a lot.

:: Decorate.

Motherhood as Vocation

A week and a half ago, I came across an article titled "Motherhood as Vocation." The article discusses the difficulty in being a stay-at-home mom in a work-dominated culture, especially for women who are educated and have found meaningful work outside of the home before becoming mothers. A group of women in the Washington D.C. area gathered to explore and discuss their shared vocation. The article affirms that the work of a stay-at-home mom is of utmost importance, just as important as being a doctor or a lawyer or a novelist. It is work that is shaped by the mother's experiences and education, and is by no means inferior to other types of work. The idea that stay-at-home moms aren't doing "real work" is a crock.

What really got me was a quote at the end of the article from G.K. Chesterton:

"How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the rule of three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone?"

Get I get an amen?

I read that and immediately thought of my students. How can I be the professor of 50 or so students, a task that's demanding much of my attention and eating away my sanity, when my primary obligation is to my daughter and my husband? How can I offer myself so completely to an endeavor that's proving to be wholly unfruitful? The long and the short of it is, I can't. And as much as I want to teach and ultimately enjoy it, now is not the right time.

The big question I've had through this is about the importance of my education. If I'm just going to be a stay-at-home mom, what was the point of going to college and grad school? If I'm honest, that was my biggest deterrent to giving up teaching, even at the expense of my wavering mental health. What I'm learning is that my time in college and graduate school has shaped who I am, and what I've learned and done in my life is going to shape who I am as a mother. And who I am is not validated by what I do for "real work."

Thanks be to God.