style, self, and lots of hats

did you know that radiation from your computer can toxify your body? so i'm sitting as far away as i can from the screen--as if that is going to help!
my beautiful friend, Laura, wrote a guest post about style (as opposed to "fashion"). one of the things she talks about is finding yourself--knowing your self--in order to know your style. holy smokes. i've been struggling so hard to stay out of the (for me) dreaded "Survival Mode" that i have no idea who i am. i have no idea what my style is anymore. i have no idea what image i am trying to present. image? wha?
so who am i these days, anyway? what am i doing with my self, my life, my time? part of the problem is that my roles are so diverse that they don't blend well into one particular style. i mean, riding-instructor-plus-working-farm-girl:

not my horse, not my farm,
but could be my mud
courtesy cdn.thehorse.com

doesn't blend so well with, you know, this:

Anthro: "Elsa Peplum Dress"

$$$ Anthro clothes, which was my MO in grad school (you know, when i had all that money to spend on clothes). and like these monkeys do, either:

not that i regret it at all. because these are eternal souls and, as beautiful as Anthro & co. can be, in the long run? it's cloth. right.

so who am i?

first off, i am a wife. i want to look good and feel pretty for my hubs, who works so hard for his family.
i am, of course, a mama. and a "glowing" one (growing?) at that (HT: jenn! what a great euphemism). which means that for the next two years or so, my body is going to be changing like mad and i am going to go through an unbelievable range of sizes. it means that i get loads of snot over my freshly-laundered dress. i fill squirt guns, turn on hoses, kiss dirty owies. i change lots of wet unders still (someone is potty training) and occasionally clean up unpleasant things from the floor.
third, i am a farm girl. i feed horses, goats and chickens. i teach riding lessons, which means i am a mounting block and booster-up for kiddos on a weekly basis. i trudge through dew, dust, and mud, and lots of chicken poo. theoretically i have a garden, which is a mirror of my very poor inner discipline (that's a whole 'nother post). i put up electric fencing; i pick up bare-foot muddy boys from falls; occasionally i chase after escaped livestock and sometimes through mud puddles.
i am a housewife. i clean a very old farmhouse that gets very dirty very quickly. i am becoming an expert fly-swatter. i battle Very Dirty Laundry on an almost daily basis. i sweep my kitchen floor approximately two dozen times a day and occasionally find the energy to give one of the rooms a much needed "deep(-ish) clean."
i am a very struggling writer. not just on this wee little blog, but on a couple of side-projects. work on them has slowed to almost not being done at all, but they're still in my head, and still on the stove, even if on a far, far distant burner.
occasionally . . . occasionally i am just me. during the day this means i sneak snatches at the piano, still in apron, and stumble through "Beautiful Dreamer." it means i pick up Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain and try to get together materials for an exercise. sometimes it means i go downtown and browse consignment stores and used book stores, and maybe grab a cup of coffee. when i am in the "just me" mode, i love to bust out all of the fanciest clothes i own . . . which isn't much these days, as non-"glowing" things are starting to hit at awfully funny places around the middle and get a little tight on top. you know. but i love it. i love skirts with lots of detailing and shirts of beautiful prints or material with unusual cut. i like to stand out, just a wee little bit, if you happen to look carefully. just a tiny bit of something.
so where does that leave me?
i have no idea. with either four or five or more wardrobes, depending on current size and shape, or with a whole lot of nothing exciting at all. it's easy for me not to care, and it's easy for me to settle for merely practical. but i need not to, because that's when it's easy for me to stop caring, and to settle for the merely practical in my life, too.
beauty is important: inside AND outside. we need to strive to be beautiful souls, of course. but, being physical beings, it's fair to give the inner self a little inspiration through the outer. if only it doesn't become the focus.
so for now? balance. and survival. and beauty, in whatever ways i can.