Unpaved Memories

“I go to nature every day for inspiration in the day’s work.” — Frank Lloyd Wright

The need to be outside is such a physical ache for me. Most days, I don’t feel “successful” unless I’ve gone outside and found some sort of adventure or movement. This feels especially vital now that I have a toddler; It isn’t just about me wanting fresh air, but about her being able to get outside too. I want her to see the world, to geek out about the different birds and flowers she sees.

But I realize I carry this heavy idea, almost a judgement really, that if the outing I do isn’t “huge”, it isn’t a success. If it isn’t some grand hike, or mountain bike ride that lasts hours that I’ve somehow failed to hit the mark.

Maybe that pressure comes from a deeper place. A place of discomfort for sitting with my thoughts for too long. That if I’m not doing something I am considered “lazy”. I have always had a hard time accepting myself-my quirks, my struggles, and the challenges I’ve faced. I think motherhood has laid all of those things out in front of me, and forced me to deal with them all at once.

I was always the person who knew I wanted children. As a little girl, I was obsessed with baby strollers; as I got older, I was the dedicated nanny and babysitter. I just assumed that when I finally reached the “right place” to have my own children, motherhood would come naturally. I never questioned it. Instead, I worried about my partner, who had no experience with kids and wasn’t even sure he wanted them until he met me. Yet, seeing him now, fatherhood seems to come to him with such ease.

It is a quiet, heavy heart-sink to realize that the one thing you always thought you’d be “the natural” at has come with so many hurdles you can’t always clear.

So, I go outside. I seek the movement (even if that means just a neighborhood walk) because, in the silence of a solo walk, I can finally stop being the “Mom” who has to narrate the world and just be a woman reconnecting with herself. Sometimes a mom needs to walk at her own pace, listening to music, the birds, the wind blowing through the trees, to remember her purpose outside of the challenges that feel so loud at home.

I’m learning that success isn’t always the biggest adventure. Sometimes, it’s just the act of walking out the door and letting nature help me to accept the parts of myself I’m still figuring out.