WILD & PRECIOUS LIFE
“Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?” – Mary Oliver
About six months ago, I was four minutes late to a lunch meeting because I was trying to get a loaf of sourdough out of the oven. As I rushed in, slightly breathless, I found myself explaining to the women I was meeting that baking bread is a well-orchestrated dance of timing (mixed with a little prayer). I couldn’t stop talking about that damn bread and how I loved the ritual of it all. And last night, before another meeting, we were catching up again, only this time I was trying to convince them to sign up for mahjong lessons.
Someone across the room overheard our conversation and said, "What are you going to have to look forward to in retirement if this is what you’re doing now?" It was said in jest (or at least I chose to interpret it that way) and maybe she just meant that they were activities older women enjoyed, but the comment stuck with me. It made me think about how short life is. Why wait to do the things you love? Why delay joy for a later that isn’t guaranteed?
Sourdough. Mahjong. Tap class. Needlepoint. Reading as many books as I possibly can in between it all.
I’ve actually been holding onto these hobbies as a bit of a lifeline. In the midst of work deadlines, household responsibilities, and the all-consuming role of motherhood, they anchor me. They are mine and mine alone… a reminder that I am not only “Jack and Rory’s mom.”
Time is precious, and I don’t have the luxury of endless hours to do everything I want for as long as I’d like. Most of my days are spent being a mom and working, but in the pockets of free time I do have, I want to be intentional. I want to spend those moments filling my cup, reconnecting with myself. And on the days when I convince myself I don’t have time? My screen time summary tells another story. If I have time to doomscroll on TikTok, I have time to knead dough, stitch some needlepoint, or lose myself in a book.
I know there will come a day when my children are grown. And while I will always be there for them and hope they always need me in some way (is that selfish as a mother?), I will have more time. But that doesn’t mean my own interests have to be put on hold now. If anything, nurturing them today ensures that when that day comes, I won’t be left searching for who I am outside of motherhood—I will already know. And more importantly, I’ll have spent years living fully, rather than waiting for “someday.”
As I’ve pondered this, I can’t help but think about Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day, where she asks, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" I don’t want to spend my days waiting for a future where I finally have time. I want to live my wild and precious life now, in the small, beautiful moments of today. In the shuffle of mahjong tiles, in the rhythm of a tap step, in the quiet turning of a book’s pages. In the things that make me feel most like me.
You come at this from the viewpoint as a mother, but as a childfree woman, I feel like this still rings so true. I was married for 14 years, and through my divorce, I realized how much of myself I lost. And why? I’ve made a point over the last year of finding “me.” That means I spend my days, and free time, enjoying and embracing all the small things and hobbies that I love and bring me joy.
There is too much sadness and stress in the world to not enjoy the small joys and live wild and free.
I also feel like this is a way to take back what was preached to so many millennial women -- hustle, work all the time, that's the only way to get ahead. I have a fulfilling and demanding job that challenges me intellectually, but I also have to find joy in the world because I'm not a robot! I love needlepoint, just like I love to read and spend time with my friends and go on long walks with my dog. It's what fills my cup. I also have been thinking about this a lot recently in terms of how society positions male hobbies versus female hobbies. Like, personally, I feel like I have to justify how I spend my leisure time -- heck, I even qualified it above -- but there's no mental gymnastics attached to men watching sports, or golfing, or hunting, or doing any of the things that they do in their time out of an office. Anyways, thanks for making me think on a Friday morning. (Substack is also one of my hobbies, obvs)