My left hand still searches for the gear lever and hits the car door instead of my son’s bony knees. I’ve learned bed is not a mere bed, but is made up of bits and pieces that you can chose to bring together or not. That a bathroom could very well be the biggest room in your house, or that the sheer variety of it could even make you stop drinking milk. I’ve also realized the vast difference between American Chinese, Indian Chinese and mere Chinese. And I’m thankful for the sheer beauty of this place that I now live in.
I’ve always seen brilliant women take it slow in their career as they reach middle age and their kids turn teens and start the exams of their lives. Even before that, in many cases. In the fresh or should I say naive and maybe foolish days of my youth, I would never have thought that one day that is what I would do as well. Not that I was so brilliant anyway, but that’s besides the point. When I got married, the only thing I wanted was for us to be together. A soaring career was not in my dreams anyway. To cut a long story short, I got back , not to be a rat in a race, I was missing having people around and thought my brain was rotting, not to mention the phase of being a pest to the husband as well.
Now, are you wondering what has the two got to do with each other – the move and being career woman? Well, I’d never lived the life of a man, if I may say so. Or at least as I see it. The change in routine and what you are familiar with is taken for granted when you move even from one house to another in the same city, not to mention across continents.
The biggest change I’ve been noticing is in my work. Or, the way I work. It’s total abandon. Priorities shifted. The wake up thoughts moved from how to wake the kids up to how to tackle that client meeting today. Not that it was not a focus earlier. It was the only focus now. Forget about cooking, no thoughts of what to eat today, not to mention what to make for the family or even what the maid has to cook. Kids’ illness, doctor’s appointments, school projects, milk man, electricity bills, booking gas, every domestic thing flew out of the window. Dust gathered, bed was not made, but who cared? Yes, I was informed. Daughter sprained her leg, son had to have a root canal done a few days prior to his board exams, maid didn’t turn up for a day, there was no milk in the fridge. I listened. And that was it. In the RACI of life, I had moved from the extreme left of being Responsible to the extreme right of being Informed of.
Isn’t this how it is for most men? Yes, they do take care, they care for their families. I am not denying that even for a moment. But how much of their mental space is occupied by the nitty gritties, the realities of day to day living? And what occupies that space instead? In most cases, the instant answer would be work, or even their passion.
I’ve had colleagues who have taken breaks during their kids’ board exams. And they were not the paranoid ones who breathes down their son’s neck for 24 hours. They are the no nonsense, head firmly on their shoulders ones who know their value very clearly as well as the value of what they were giving up. What prompted them to take that break, I’ve wondered. Was it guilt, a sense of possibly misplaces responsibility, or sheer frustration of handling it all together?
Yes, it is a choice as some of you might say. And yes, I did make that choice years ago, and there is not even an ounce of regret as I reminisce over all the years past. I’ve had plenty of time for going over many things in the last two months of solitude. Just that being away has made me realize the enormity of that space in our minds and what occupies it at each phase of our lives and according to the roles we play.
Space has a new meaning now, and I hope each of us women get the luxury of that space in our lives, at least now and then. A place for being away from everything, where our minds and bodies are able to wander freely, we walk or run or jump or somersault in the air, at our own pace, in our own rhythm.
Saying that every day is a woman’s day is a cliche now. Instead, can the men who really care, help their women find their special space, let them be on their own, for a few days? Now, that would be a real Woman’s Day gift.
Meanwhile stay blessed, all the special women in my life!
(p.s. no envy, please. Life will be back to normal in two weeks :D)