I had three babies in three years so I spent the better part of the last decade in “survival mode”, just making it from one nap time to the next. Unsurprisingly, those long days were short-lived. 

Emerging out of the blurry years of early parenting has left me feeling rudderless and unsure of what to do next. I was so focused on my young family’s needs, that, in some ways, I’ve put my own life on the backburner. But now that the kids are a little older, I am left asking a few existential questions. I know I am not the same person I was before I became a mom, but who have I become? How do I choose my next steps so that I can do something that is aligned with who I am now? 

Maybe you’re not a mom but you’ve transitioned out of a season of life that once defined you: school, a relationship, a job. 

Coming out of one season brought on all the pressure of choosing something to do next, as if my value and identity were tied to the contributions I made to the world around me. I thought about pursuing my Master’s Degree, or jumping right back to re-starting my career. I am not usually one to wait well in a time of uncertainty. 

Knowing that I was feeling unmoored with my kids in school, a friend wisely reminded me to free myself from the pressure of jumping to the next thing, reminding me that each season is uniquely meaningful and it passes quicker than we think. We all face different seasons of life where we will naturally encounter some forced changes – the challenge is in the prudence of finding out what to do with that change, and how to steward your time in the present. 

She encouraged me to take the blank slate of this new season to identify which commitments align with my personal and family values, and how I can lean into a life that reflects them. She encouraged me to consider where in my life I lack integration between passion and purpose, and what are the blind spots that prevent me from being more intentional with my choices. 

As Henry David Thoreau writes, “The cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.” 

The underlying cultural belief is that busyness is equal to value or importance. I know that I’ve fallen into this trap too many times. I do it when I over-commit our calendar, or even incessantly clean my home. 

How, then, should I re-orient my time so that I am not merely “keeping busy”, but rather, living out an integrated way of life? How do I live a life that aligns with who I am and what I desire?

I am grateful that most of my days already include many of what I value: family time, friends and community, spirituality and silence, home-making, reading, and creating. However, when I get lost in the haze of busyness, I lose track of the bigger picture, like when my desires for a clean home supersedes the need to be present to a friend in need or the hearts of my family members. 

What I did realize is that I have set such low boundaries around protecting the time I’ve set aside for those things. Without clearly defined boundaries of what I value, I tend to buzz from one thing to the next. Keeping busy, but never actually feeling accomplished.

Knowing my struggles with prioritizing my time,my husband shared an important insight he once read online: “Some balls are plastic, and some balls are glass. You need to be able to identify which kind it is, so that when (not if) a ball drops, you’d know if it will bounce back or if it will shatter.” 

Designing a practice of living what I value

The nuance between glass and plastic balls has helped me add another filter into cultivating habits that reflect my values into daily life. When an opportunity comes up, I am able to ask myself whether it aligns with our family values, and if it is a glass or a plastic ball. What is the fallout if something does not get done? What is my underlying motivation – is there a negative emotion like fear or judgement that I am avoiding? Am I willfully choosing something because it is something that aligns with my passions, even if it comes at a cost?

What this means for me is that living according to my values requires gratitude, discernment, and courage. 

I know that much of my life is already full of answered prayers, even if it doesn’t always feel or look like it from the surface. I have so much to be grateful for! The books scattered on our coffee table? Evidence of a gaggle of booklovers in our home. The construction tools on our stairs? Evidence of a handy husband who knows how to build and create. When two values are in conflict with each other (i.e., the mess of books vs. fostering a love for reading), I can instead cultivate a heart of gratitude. I keep Ann Voskamp’s rally cry on top of my mind: “Eucharisteo (thanksgiving) always precedes the miracle”. 

Second, filtering activities and opportunities as “aligned with my values” and as a “glass/plastic ball” needs prayerful discernment. I can’t commit to multiple sports clubs, multiple  freelance projects, and every fun trip that comes up all at the same time." Not every “good thing” should be considered a “glass ball”; because other commitments may require more attention. Sometimes, I need to decline a brunch invite to prioritize time at home with my partner. Other times, I need to request a project deadline extension because my daughter has been craving connection and asked that I come in for a craft afternoon in her class. There isn’t always a clear distinction, so it’s important that I don’t get too rigid about my own rules so that I can weigh opportunities as they come. I find that when I am not sure what to do, seeking wisdom through prayer or from my close group of friends can help with seeing things more clearly and from a different perspective. 

In his book, A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving writes: “If you care about something you have to protect it – If you’re lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it.” 

I love that Irving talks about the courage it takes to live – because that tells me about a life that is more than just about surviving. Pope Benedict XVI aptly describes what is on the other side of living courageously: "The world offers you comfort. But you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness." 

The adventure of a good life requires sacrifices along the way, learning how to live out the discipline required to pursue what is life-giving for our family. It requires courage to re-evaluate commitments, being open to taking on a new responsibility or releasing a current one. Greatness doesn’t come easily; it takes a healthy dose of wisdom and courage to make many little intentional decisions. 

If you find yourself in the midst of a new – perhaps uncertain – season, these words, written by a leader about a group of people who have been blessed with much, really resonated with me: 

 “They are to do good, to be rich in good deeds, liberal and generous,  thus laying up for themselves a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life which is life indeed.” (1 Timothy 6:18-19, emphasis mine).

Every moment is sacred. Our life is a gift, and the fact that we are given the freedom to choose how to spend our days is a tremendous privilege. We have been given this one precious life, and with it, passion and purpose.

My hope for you – as well as for me – is that we would live integrated, wholehearted lives, filled with deep conviction and zeal. We can’t merely exist, blurring one day into the next. In order to move towards healed versions of ourselves, we must endeavour to pursue and redefine what it means to be authentically and fully alive. The pursuit of this requires much of us, but I am confident that taking a hold of that greatness for which we were made is all worth it.