From Monica Gebell:
My exodus comes with Spring. It’s no secret that the Northeast has seen one of the more cruel winters this side of The Ice Storm of 1990, and I’ve had it. It’s been a loooong winter, especially for my three babes, who, when we come home from school every day, pine to stay outside. There’s little I want more at 4 p.m. than to let them frolick and squeal their way around the yard, chase and tackle each other, scream, hide, seek, take them on a walk. But it’s arctic. Way too cold for my little ones, who won’t keep hats and mittens on for more than a minute and who might need a 12-step program for their Sprout channel addictions.
With Passover will come buds and leaves and colors and petals and sprouts, the real ones, and head-clearing walks, hopscotch, countless games of tag, fresh air. Next year in Jerusalem, maybe, but this Spring, I’m barefoot in the grass, baby.
From Renee Septimus:
When I was raising my children, the burden of responsibility of family, of running a home, of community and professional obligations, could overwhelm me, causing such anxiety such that my hands would shake. There was always just so much to do. And what I couldn’t “do,” I worried about.
Today, I am surprised to realize that I seem to have had a “personal exodus.”
My husband, children, grandchildren, and I are well and happy, thank God. I no longer feel the crushing oppression of duty, accountability, and apprehension that I experienced so intensely for so long.
Hang in there, it will happen to you, too.
From Jessica Hoffman:
I want to break free from Explaining Myself. When I turned 30 a few years ago, things started to change for me. I grew more confident, happier, independent, relaxed, and willing to pursue my own path. But when you do your own thing, you often find yourself on the defensive. From my religious observance to my love of weight-lifting to my ever-changing “commitment” to eating paleo, people form opinions and criticisms that I didn’t ask for, and I always feel this compulsive need to explain myself.
But the only explanation should be that I do the things I do because they feel right and make me genuinely happy. In the words of Sara Bareilles, “You’ve got opinions, man. We’re all entitled to ‘em. But I never asked. So let me thank you for your time. And try not to waste any more of mine. Get out of here fast. I hate to break it to you babe, but I’m not drowning, there’s no one here to save.”
What’s your exodus this year? Let us know by either emailing firstname.lastname@example.org or tweeting @Kveller with #WhatsYourExodus.