And Then There was Me
Long, long ago, before the (welcome) realization of becoming a mother intervened, I had much more independent, and in a different way, thrilling plans and dreams to achieve. Like an aspiring female “Indy” (Fedora included), I would travel the globe, anxiously bounding from country to country, continent to continent, welcoming excitement and adventure wherever my compass (or GPS) would point.
I would make amazing discoveries of something (anything) yet-undiscovered on this (or any other) planet. Books that I authored recounting the exhilarating and sought-after life I was leading would bullet to the top of the New York Times Best Seller List, probably before their release dates were even announced! And I would be honored, as my breathtaking photos, captured from all around the world, graced numerous covers of the award winning National Geographic Magazine.
Of course (and this almost goes without saying), I would become independently wealthy along the way.
Well, naturally, as seems to happen in life more often than not, my expectations did not quite carry out as planned. I nurtured my two kids, attended countless little league games, school plays, school meetings, and graduations. Although, admittedly I was not the perfect mother, I raised my children with overflowing pride and zero regret; not out of duty, but out of love.
To support my family, I held generally mundane and not-so-lucrative jobs over the years and never once (okay, maybe once) wished I had taken a much (MUCH) more different career path long, long ago.
The bills arrived like clockwork each and every month (although, they were not paid quite as frequently), the inevitable divorce transpired when the kids were still toddlers, and the common struggle of raising my family over the years took precedence over those distant, yet never forgotten plans and dreams.
That is until I hit forty-something. That’s when the itch started. That’s when the kids were grown and on their own and I said to myself: “It’s time for ME to grow, too!”
I began realizing that this life of mine, the one that I will (probably) only live once, should not just be about the ‘Mom’ in me. My life should be about everything that I represent: ‘Mom’ inclusive, not ‘Mom’ exclusive. More importantly, this life of mine should embrace all that I dream of being and all that I will become.
Now, most experts seem to agree that acknowledging the problem - any problem - is the first step in defeating it. I must concur. I remember literally saying out loud to myself, “Okay, Karin. It’s time to start living for YOU. Make a plan, woman!” So, I did.
I dug for a pen at the bottom of my purse and a tore off a paper towel from the kitchen rack (whatever works). Then, I simply started taking inventory of the many things that I still wanted to do with my life. I was a brainstorming maniac, jotting down any and all ideas that popped into my head, in absolutely no particular order. No matter how crazy and unattainable an idea seemed, that ultra-absorbent paper towel soaked up each and every one, no questions asked, just like it was made to do.
The names of places I had always wanted to travel like Australia – from Opera House to Outback; Italy - from Vatican to Venice; and Africa – from Cape Town to Cairo, stared back at me in blue rollerball ink. Tropical destinations like Tahiti, The Cook Islands, and The Maldives were quickly added to my ever-growing global destination list.
Island hopping the Caribbean, compliments of a big, shiny cruise ship seemed well beyond my (financial) reach at the time, but it was something I had to do! Better yet, becoming stranded (accidentally, of course) on an uncharted island in the South Pacific (much like that Swiss family), seemed almost conceivable, if not probable. (Oh, come on, it could happen!)
Local excursions like stomping grapes with my bare feet in the vineyards of Tuscany (there goes the pedicure); snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef; walking (part of) the nearly 4000 miles of the Great Wall of China; climbing at least one of the Great Pyramids; and – random -even photographing the magnificence of Blue Icebergs in the Antarctic (above and below the surface) – suddenly beckoned me from out-of-the-blue, so to speak.
Writing articles and books about anything and everything that I wanted to accomplish from this point forward was now a matter of when, not if.
Why couldn’t I do these and so many other things?! There was absolutely no reason at all. I then
realized that the only obstacle that had been stopping me - was ME!
Then I began to think about (and quickly convinced myself of) the fact that I could not possibly be the only woman at my age or anywhere close to my age (give or take 10 years), who had so much yet to accomplish! So much yet to do! So much yet to share! And I almost felt an obligation to prove to myself (and them) that I (we) really can achieve absolutely anything that we want. ANYthing!
I wanted so much to accomplish all of the items on my list that I forced myself find a way to begin turning those dreams into reality. And I realized that ‘way’ had been staring me in the face the whole time. I just started believing in “Me”. I did. Don’t get me wrong - that transformation was definitely not achieved overnight. Oh, no. After years of being a ‘single mom’ and thinking of my family in the plural sense, the practice of thinking in the singular “I” did not transpire instantaneously.
I also did not suddenly have the much hoped for “Aha!” moment that we have all heard so much about, and the next thing I know, my life has taken a 180. No, no, no. Mine was more like, “Uhh-huhhh. Ya, I can do that….right? Sure I can…right?”
Yet daily, from that moment on, I decided to become a better “Karin”. I began making even the slightest changes in my life and within myself, and started achieving the plans and dreams listed on that absorbent white paper towel.
To date, I have traveled the Caribbean on a big, shiny cruise ship. I have snorkeled in the South Pacific. I have yet to be stranded on a deserted island, but it’s all in the plan.
Next year, I will travel to Europe – my first trip across ‘the pond’ – and spend at least two full weeks in countries I have always dreamed of exploring - backpack on my shoulder, laptop on my, uh, LAP, and camera around my neck, hoping for that one incredible shot that just might grace the cover of (my first) National Geographic Magazine. Or, perhaps sooner than later, you just might read about my adventurous tales in your favorite newspaper, magazine, or better yet - my very first book.
That is the dream.