Ought and Expectation

This is a contributor piece I wrote for True and Noble Blog. Read the full article HERE.


The last of all the car doors shut. Thrusting the gear into park, I let my foot off the brake. The kids all rushed inside and although I typically follow suit, I waited. Leaning my head into the steering wheel, I sat there in the quiet. The silence broke with the sound of my own voice. It started as a scream and turned into a wail. In the confines of my locked car, I let the walls come down. The weight of ought and expectation on my shoulders made it easy to resist picking up the pieces. I was tired. 

This wall was not made of brick and mortar. It was more the likes of empty cardboard boxes. This barrier that surrounded me, was doing anything but creating a secure boundary. So, on this particular afternoon, I decided to dismantle my attempt at seclusion and protection. The act of releasing all the tension I carried felt in drastic contrast to the white knuckle grip that held my heart; my measly attempt to keep things looking upright and orderly. 

Willingly I surrendered my agony and aspirations that day. Ought and expectation were laid on the altar. The weight of being a “put together” woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend, the responsibility of being the primary care giver for 4 humans, and the longing for my own personal significance and accomplishments were laid to rest. I carried the torch of ought and expectation, one in each hand, for far too long. I held them proudly at first, confident that it was up to me to light the path. It was my duty. But these torches I was holding felt heavy and cumbersome. The flames of strife and comparison had even burned my hand a time or two. I couldn’t see past the bright light that burned in front of me. It is fair to say I had lost my way.

Continue reading the entire article over at True and Noble