There are days, like today, when I look around the house and see how dependent we are upon modern conveiniences. Everywhere I look it negativity seems to jump out at me. My mind sways back and forth from the luxury of ease to disgust with how things got so far out of hand. My eyes dart from child to child, seeing each of them being "entertained" by something electronic. I walk through the blowing air conditioner to the kitchen and glimpse my non-electric coffee maker and laundry lines.
Such a precarious peak I sit on. Tilting one way then the next. Towards modern efficiency one moment and then back to old fashioned hard work. A teeter-totting life. What is better? What is right? Do I want my kids growing up even further attached to outlets and remotes? Do I want them packed away from what life is really like? What are their kids lives going to be like?
My head swims with all the ways I could be royally screwing up. All the things I haven't done, haven't gotten close to doing and haven't yet realized that what I am doing is wrong, not for us.
Then I glimpse what I have accomplished. The little things that give me the daily affirmations that I am moving in the right direction. That even when I don't do everything completely right all the time, most of what I do is right for us. I'm going forward, even if some days it's ever so slowly. Yesterday, it was experiencing a public school recess first hand. I left the playground shocked and unnerved with the horrific behaivor I witnessed. Racial slurs, sexual harassment, assault all wrapped up in ten minutes of fourth grader "play". It was a confirmation that homeschooling is best for us.
Today, it was the plumping fruit on the plants in the front yard. More cherry tomatoes got harvested, watermellons are plumping, banana pepper babies are growing, little things that tell me I'm on a good path. That I'm actually walking on it. Those little daily affirmations that spur me on, solidify my resolve and make light a heart heavy with uncertainty.
All I have to do is look for them.
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