Making permanent peace with the creative tension in motherhood.

Creation and motherhood cannot be separated. Let this relax you.

I love being a mum.

I love writing.

I feel so fulfilled taking care of my family.

I love making beautiful books.

I am so grateful to be able to be home with my kids.

I want to creative a movement method.

It feels so good to surrender fully to motherhood.

I could so do building biology.

This season is so sacred, I don’t wanna miss it.

Should I open the hub?

Depending on the time of my cycle it is, I’ve either deleted instagram all together, or I’ve got 12 posts lined up to choose from.

Depending on the season of my life, I’m either high as a kite on ideas and possibilities, wanting to be seen and heard, or I’m happily and privately living quietly with my family, preferring to be totally uncontactable by anybody except my Myspace top 8.

There is always a push pull between my most pressing desire to have a harmonious home, giving my first and best to my family…. and the rushes of creativity that are exciting.

I’ve learned that some creative urges are meaningful and worthwhile, while others are not.

I’ve learned that as naturally creative beings, we will have no shortage of incredible ideas, but the reality is they’re not all ours to act on.

I’ve learned over the years that no, we can’t ‘have it all’ and nor should we want to, that making worthwhile decisions for something means giving death to what we’re not choosing. Sounds dramatic, but it brings relief when we are entertaining too many creative paths. Good decisions require death. I wrote about this a while back.

I have books that are sitting in my drive. Some mostly finished from years ago, like The Mother Summer, that I’m not publishing just yet because I feel I need to update it already. I have my Body Luxury book in full swing right now as my creative priority. I have the vision for family wellness hubs that I’ve begun and stopped over the years because worldly travel was more a priority for a while. I have other books, ideas, products that are all exciting to me.

But they can’t all be on the table all the time.

My husband, while always encouraging my creative pursuits, has to remind me that I am in the very blessed position, to not need to do anything (as in, work wise). It has taken me many years to relax into this, given my history, and I’m still in the process. This is a whole other post (one of many!).

Some women’s wrestle when it comes to resting into motherhood is financial and economic. For other’s it’s tied up with a history of hyper-independence, fear of not having enough, a desire to prove herself as smart and capable, and a lack of worthiness to be the kind of woman who can be financially supported by a man.

Yes, I’ve got many drafts on this— for laters.

My husband (a very smart, successful business man) always tells me also that simplicity is the way. If i’m going to do it, ‘choose one thing, and give it your all, and it will be inevitably successful.’

That’s sound advice for anyone, but for mothers of young children, it’s really solid.

We can do anything, and squeeze projects into windows of the week where we heave them— but there is always a tradeoff.

I can do it all, but will I be as patient and present with my kids?

I can do it all, but will I have time with my husband?

I can do it all, but will I have time to workout?

I can do it all, but will I have the energy to cook dinner every night?

There’s always a tradeoff.

We may be able to fit it all into our day time wise, but the reality of a capacity, is real.

Sometimes we get so excited about a potential project, and we momentarily forget that we have multiple small children that depend on us now, that this is our highest calling in this season and that it won’t always be this way.

Our minds tell us all kinds of exciting things like ‘you will be able to do it!!’ ‘Remember you CAN have it all!’ ‘You will just do it really effectively and it won’t take too much time!’.

Then our ego creeps in and tells us all kinds of things about relevance and status and how CoOL It WiLL LoOk On OuR GriD.

But we know.

The sensation of ‘over-committing’ reminds me of something I learned during my honours year when I was learning about appetite regulation for my thesis. In basic terminology, we can feel full because we’ve had enough nutrients and our hormones say so, or we can feel full because we’ve eating so much we have stretched our tummy— signalling to the stretch receptors that we are full.

We can feel full because we’ve had enough nutrition or we can feel full just because we’ve had enough volume (regardless of whether it’s nutritious).

We all have this sense of a stretch receptor inside of us.

We know when we are over-stretching.

Sometimes, the stretching is good and right and it is worth the stretch because it’s part of the order… the call is so true and strong that we can’t NOT do it.

Sometimes we are stretched because life does that— caring for a family member or a family you know in a needy time, or fundraising for something immediate for people you know, staying up late to cook for a family who had a new baby.

I am by no means saying that we are meant to live in our own little bubble of ‘what’s right for me’. I believe we should all have the flexibility to drop everything and help— this is not about this.

This post is about committing to projects long term that are just not meant for our plates right now-- when we have the choice.

I want to make that difference clear.

We have this internal knowing of how far we can stretch mentally before we are snapping at our family and bouncing from one thing to the next in a state of adrenalin.

This is ok, by the way, if it’s the way you want to live. I kinda love living fast and being busy. It’s my nature. But my body has its limit. So does my mind. Wisdom is co-operating and not trying to outplay.

What is most important to me is being the wife and mother I want to be.
It’s my kids growing into adults, and me looking back and knowing that I really did my best— I don’t want to live with any gnawing regret that I was too distracted, not disciplined enough to turn from the many temptations of the world when I KNOW where my most sincere fulfilment and highest duty lies. It’s giving my family a home that is a sanctuary, and not one where they are walking on egg shells around a woman who has too much on her plate.

I have chosen to be home with my children, available to them, as an educated woman with a successful portfolio in various endeavours.

I have chosen this.

Peace is owning our choices, and knowing that a decision in one direction, means death to many others.

I know this.

This doesn’t mean I made the decision to cut off creativity, to not do the right things that can fit, and don’t compete with the order of my home.

It means there is an order, a north star, a standard, and by golly I know when I am not living it.

We’ve got to know our own values, and be honest about what is in competition with what matters most to us.

Sure, I can fit anything into my life.

Sometimes the stretch is warranted because I’m convicted and it’s essential.

Sometimes life stretches us naturally (like recently when my husband has emergency appendix surgery and recovery that follows).

But when it comes to exciting creative projects, I can’t just keep adding things like I used to. My mind will try to entertain them all, but there is a limit. Peace is accepting this.

There are tradeoffs. We have to remember that there are tradeoffs and we have to know which ones we’re willing to make.

I don’t work or write at night and I haven’t since becoming a mum. After dinner, we play, have a bath, I tell a story from a series we’ve been making up for over 5 years now. There are 58 bedtime snacks in there too. Including one after the teeth have been brushed, of course. Once my younger two are asleep, Sol and I lay on the biomat, with the red light on, our legs up the wall and we read. This is our nightly ritual. I might do a few face massage exercises for a few minutes while we do.

I notice that when I’m mentally giving myself to too many things, conjuring up dinner plans feels too hard basket.

I like to cook every night from scratch.

This is important to me for so many different reasons, some deeper than others.

This commitment takes considerable mental energy and creativity, as mums will know.

When I am scatty or mentally exhausted because I’m chewing away on all kinds of information all day, I just can’t be bothered cooking.

I’m not willing to have this be my standard. The exception, sure! Ubereats on a Friday night, come at me. But it’s not going to be the way it goes in my home.

This is the thing too— we could have solid boundaries when it comes to actual work commitments, but then spend the same amount of mental energy consuming information— instagram, news, telegram channels and even Substack.

We all know that creation is more life giving than consuming, so we’ve gotta be mindful too of where we let totally unproductive information consumption, take mental energy that could be used for creation in the same amount of time.

We know how life giving creativity is for mothers.

So the question shouldn’t be whether we still create while we have little children at home, it’s about what to say yes to, and what to scrap (for now).

A note: I have another post in my drafts about the financial/economical considerations of this conversation too, but this is not that conversation here. Yes, every mum is in a totally different economical situation and this conversation can appear luxurious— but I also know my readers can apply their own situation and discard what is irrelevant. Writing becomes very hard when we feel we must always include disclaimers, and it’s also insulting to the intelligent, autonomous adults who read it.

Lately, it’s helped me to ask myself this question.

“Can I NOT do this?”

This question instantly reveals what is real, what is right and what is life giving.

It separates the wheat from the chaff creatively.

I’ve had to tell myself (and others) the God’s honest truth a few times in the last few weeks.

A good friend of mine wanted to start a podcast together and as exciting as it was, as much as I love and respect this friend and her wisdom (she is a treasure!)— I had to exercise some discipline. Sure, I could do it! But I had to tell the truth about the fact that committing to a project long term with another person, would take away from things that are up the top of my list and needing my attention (at least right now).

The other truth I need to acknowledge, is that I work best when I can work to my own rhythm. I need this. I can collab temporarily for sure (and I do! Obviously I work with others all the time on my books, past events etc), but I need to not be bound by another’s creative flow, especially in this season with littles. I work in spurts. I will be really out there and then really not. I need this freedom in my life and work right now while my creative projects are in the back seat, children in the front. I could BS myself and pretend that it’s different, but it isn’t. I’ve learned tooooo much about myself in these scenarios in the past and wisdom is a beautiful thing— it helps us avoid the same lessons in the future.

We can do anything! But there is an order to things, and in this season where I am so needed by my little people, I have to pick and choose wisely. Another avenue I’m exploring is investing privately in companies I believe in— people who are in their grind and loving it. It’s hands off for me (although totally open to relaxed advisor roles if it were appropriate), but I get to support others who are in a different season than me right now. It’s a way I can be productive and creative but not distracted. I had an idea to start a little VC thing where I could just support others in their super cool pursuits…. but you see where I’m going with this. IDEAS EVERYWHERE! SO MANY! Never a shortage, I tell you that. Thank you God!

Discipline.

I am someone who is so excitable— I can bite off many things, but can I chew them all as I want to (at once?!).

Sometimes we experience this conflict in our bellies— we are biting off more than we can chew, and our bodies tell us.

I’ve learned to ask this question: ‘Can I NOT do this?’

Some things are exciting, but easy to put on hold.

Other things feel like they belong in the scope right now.

It feels like a calling, not just an idea.

For me, writing is something I can’t NOT do.

I need to write. Mostly because it helps me to understand. It straightens out the many different tangents in my head. It frees up space so that I can observe again.

It’s what writers do. We pay attention to the world, and we tell about it. Once you have been writing for a while, this becomes a part of you and it never leaves. You are constantly observing the world with such astute attention (even if it’s just your world at home and the world in your mind). You observe so that you can tell.

You have to tell.

Without the tell, it’s just observe. The mind becomes too full. The words come out whether you like it or not. When you’re making dinner, the perfect line will present itself in your mind as if God himself is editing your ideas. It’ll be so perfect and put together that you have no choice but to write it.

The writing is the out breath.

When writers don’t write, it’s like they are holding their breath, deprived of oxygen.

We go mad.

If we are going to observe, then we need to tell.

This is the heartbeat of a writer.

This is the rhythm of oxygenation.

It doesn’t change when we become mothers.

If anything, we have even more to write about, just less time to write it.

This intensifies the creative process, doesn’t it?

Less time, more material.

We know there will be more time for our creative pursuits once our kids are grown…. but will there be as much inspiration?

I don’t know.

During these early years, when our babies are tugging on our clothes while we cook, our ‘time to sit and create’ is more limited. Inspiration feels precious and intense. That old ‘pressure makes diamonds’ thing maybe.

When we are fitting our writing (or other) around the everyday life of home and kids, it is concentrated, not diluted. We pause when we’re chopping vegetables, to quickly scribble down an idea. We lie awake at night thinking ‘dammit! I know exactly what I want to write but I also need to sleep, the baby will wake soon.’

It’s a dance.

I know that sounds wanky I know *cringey cringe*, but it is.

Creative time is a both a luxury and a necessity.

I know motherhood is inherently creative, as is femininity. Looking after our homes, cooking, creating rhythms and thinking up the dinners for the week, lunchboxes, birthday gifts, all of it. I know we are creative inherently and that we are using this gift every single day all day.

But you know what I’m talking about. It’s that creative time that is just our own. It’s not the priority anymore, naturally and rightfully, which means that when we have it, what a luxury.

A hot foamy mocha, a laptop, and 90 minutes of quiet.

Swap this out for a spot in the corner of a cozy cafe.

Either way, it’s heaven. Fight me on that, I dare you.

But it wouldn’t be heaven if we had it for 5 hours everyday.

At least for me.

It’s extra special now because it doesn’t come first. It fits in.

It’s important and it’s a treat.

Creativity is a treat and it’s also a necessity.

If I had 5 hours to sit at a computer these days, I’d feel confronted and uncomfortable. Not enough pressure. Too much time. I’d probably spend an hour of it ordering groceries, checking the news (for entertainment purposes only because, you know). I’d answer emails, and take a pic of my coffee next to my laptop.

Too much time is overwhelming.

I write in 90 minute to 2 hour sessions, a few times a week. This is my time. I fit appointments into these windows too— lucky for me I don’t have too many of those. This is enough time for me right now. Any more time and it’d be time wasted. Like lottery winners who don’t know how to handle that much money, so they blow it all. I don’t know how to handle that much creative time a day anymore— I’d blow it. A little shopping here, a little totally nonsense research like “Does Brady figure out that Lark is a snake in Virgin River? If so, which episode so I can fast forward.”

I have so many ideas.

So many things I could do.

We all do.

But over the years of many humbling experiences (and mastitis, that old wise gal), I have learned about limits, about capacity.

Just because we can, it doesn’t mean we should.

If we do everything we could do, it leaves less energy, time and attention for what we must do.

In early motherhood, every commitment we make has a tradeoff that comes along with it. Some are right and life giving, but many are not. We can’t just keep adding things to our plate, when we are already giving more physically, mentally and emotionally than any other time in our lives.

I don’t know about you, but I can get so excited by an idea that I become deluded by it. I always figure it out though— God’s way of designing our bodies ensured that.

I believe God sustains what He ordains, like we’ve heard many times before.

I believe that we get supernatural energy for what matters (like motherhood!). I believe with each child, God gives the mother more capacity— deeper and wider. But it’s not to be blown on things that don’t matter.

But I also know we’ve got to participate, exercise discipline, and do our best to keep order in our lives, homes and pursuits.

Even if I decided to take more time for new projects— there is a mental capacity.

I might be able to do it ‘time wise’, but then be a little too buggered to make dinner from scratch

*Me and my big girl a few years ago in Tuscany*

What it boils down to is this.

Motherhood and creativity are not in opposition.

Creativity is the gift of the mother, it’s innate in her.

We have to stop speaking as if the two are at odds with each other.

You cannot separate a mother and creation. The two go together like butter and jam on warm sourdough, like God goes with us. Mother’s are here to participate in creation with God. It is THE role of mothers.

It starts with marriage, children, the home, and then into the world beyond that.

It’s not a question of whether we will still create while mothering small kids, but about tailoring our creative pursuits so that they are life giving for us, and therefore our homes and families. This might need to be financial, but it could also just be the non-tangible ways our creativity replenishes us— whatever the circumstance. We get to work them around the first priority— our homes and families. But we’ve got to make peace with the fact that we can’t give into every single creative impulse as if we have all of the capacity in the world in this season, because we do not.

Discipline is ok. It is good. It is life giving. It is the friend of order.

We get to, and if you’re like me, *need to* keep creating while we mother our children.

Motherhood and creation are not separate and we find peace when we nestle into this good truth here.

But, the order has to be right.

What we do must be life giving. This will differ according to the woman, the family, the finances, the callings, the gifts, the ages of the children and all the rest.

We can’t do it all nor should we try.

If we try to pursue creative projects that make us worse at home, it’s not right for this season.

When we are doing the right things creatively, we expand and goodness floods into our homes.

Mothers never stop creating. It is impossible for us to. Even if we are not ‘working on anything’, writing a Substack, building a brand or working a job— we are creating every single day. It is our purest nature. One of God’s greatest gifts to us, and to the world.

We find peace where there was once tension, when we relax into this good news. Motherhood and creativity are one. We find even more peace when we correctly order our pursuits according to our values. Again, and again, and again.

PK XX