archive: August, 2009
traveled just a short distance yesterday to witness beauty and connection in it's purest form…
there really aren't words…
thank you beautiful bride and groom, for sharing your souls, your tears and your brave and honest intentions with one another. and for allowing us to witness it.
love is really all we need.
i'm completely blown away by the comments on the last post. the willingness to expose and set free. bravery. depth and compassion for the ways we've been locked up. readiness to reveal.
i'm stunned, really.
and so very grateful.
grateful for intimate exchange. grateful for the souls who are willing to show up as they are. who find value in giving voice to their deepest parts and who aren't afraid to speak of themselves. those who want to tell their OWN story, because it means something. because it's worth hearing. because, no matter what the details, there is something in the telling that we will connect to.
it is so much easier to speak of others with compassion, empathy and concern. but to speak the truth of oneself? that takes a willingness to be seen.
sometimes (most of the time) i feel like i am just saying things that have been said a thousand times before. it just all feels so obvious. like it should all be implied. but then i remember that it's precisely what's common among us that we hunger for. the reassurance that "i've been there, too." that the shared experience is infinitely more better than the one that never speaks.
my son handed me this dripping, perfectly ripe mulberry yesterday, picked straight off the tree. of course, first i had to take a photo of it. and then we chose to break it into halves. so that we could both taste the exact same sweetness, have the same color stain our hands and chins. all we had to do was to look right at one another and mouth the words "oh my god". because we both knew how good it was.
and that's what it's all about, right?
i am not that tough. never have been. didn't come out that way. quite the opposite, i am a little squishy, tender, and i bruise easily. i am known by those closest to me to be empathic and devotional. tears come easily and often. my heart just barely beneath the skin.
that said, i am learning to find a balance of strength and suppleness as i venture deeper into public knowing. as i put myself out there and strike up conversations with compelling strangers, even if only virtually, i have had to learn to draw up a boundary upon what is revealed and to take care of my see-through soul. my tendency is to tell you everything. i am much more adept at revealing than withholding. and i think that's a good thing, for the most part.
what is surprising to me, though, is that i have become more and more aware of the truth that i have a harder time revealing the lighter side.
i am realizing that there are layers to the freedom that is calling. that, while transparency and emotional vulnerability are a part of it, so also are silliness and physical freedom. jokes and awkwardness. dancing and tripping over thresholds. making moron faces with the mac photobooth and posting the evidence. it takes just as much bravery to let the wild side loose as it does to show the weakness. maybe more. for me, there is a little more ego involved. a little more risk and a little less comfort. perhaps i've feared being the fool more than i've feared appearing emotionally indulgent.
whatever the origin, i'm feeling this next layer peel away. while i won't be posting any karaoke or hosting a naked dance party with the curtains open anytime soon (never say never), i do feel more relaxed. less inhibited. and ready shake loose some inner wild.
so maybe i'm not tough. but i'm also not just a sensitive crying girl.
there's so much more.
and i know there is so much more to you, too.
tell me, what are you ready to reveal?
i'm feeling the tether of motherhood tonight. ripples of tension, questioning and doubt. maybe just too many unstructured days while my attentions were pulled in so many new directions. we're feeling it, my children and i, each in our own way, and tonight they both expressed it. there was some soothing to be done, some tending to souls, and some apologizing. i've been too quick to anger, not always clear on the boundary between soft and strong. and i've underestimated the impact of my weaker moments. the ones where presence would have been more powerful than the harsh words that tumbled out before i could breathe them away.
i don't want this new path to be at their expense. they were first. they are always. and i can see how i need to more clearly define my time throughout the next few weeks of summer. and into the future. i can see that we are all feeling the ripples, the stretch, the ways that i am changing. the ways that they are changing. and how we need to hold onto one another.
my heart feels so heavy in this moment. heavy with the fierce love of mothering. right now i cannot even contemplate the thought of leaving them in a few weeks for this big trip. my mind is spinning fast and i know that what i need to do now is climb into bed with my husband and let him hold me. let go this day and allow the freshness of tomorrow to bring what it may. and that is what i will do. but first, i will climb the stairs one last time and kiss their foreheads while they sleep.
and before i close my eyes, i will pray for my heart to open just a little bit more; for love to guide intuition, for presence and patience, and for trust in the gentle hand of grace.
i'm remembering a conversation i had with another mother when i was pregnant with my second child, almost 10 years ago. we were speaking of how impossible it would be if we had to divide our love, our energy, our connection, among multiple children. of course, we realized, that we would simply grow more. that the reservoir within us was vast and that with each new being that comes into our lives, comes the capacity to love them every bit as much as the one who came before. i'm remembering this as i reflect on the darkness i felt last night. recognizing that the new being who is arriving on the scene, my authentic expressed self, needs and craves my attention. and that there is enough to go around. that the reservoir is deep and that i have the capacity to expand my love and tend to her, too. there it is again: expansion. opening up inside. even when the inside is tangled and tethered with the primal love that comes with being a mother.
they will wake up soon. sleepy eyed and maybe (likely) grumble about the things that 9 and 13 year olds grumble about. and i will drink them in. look them in the eye, breathe them deeply into my heart, and thank them for walking through this door with me.