Tag: love

Unexpected Interruption

These are quotes which I discovered from readings, from the ancient (and yet, still vitally dynamic) Order of the Rose Quartz Witches (“Cor sentit, lapis tuetur”) :

“There is no better medicine to your own heart than knowing that you have been a truly unexpected blessing to someone else’s life.”

“She unintentionally paid a dear price for fair critique, but in the end, the price was worth its weight in gold, for reputation is always one’s bedrock.”

“If there is enough life flowing through your own veins, you can find life in anything, even in the hardest and plainest of stones.”

“When you don’t have much in your cauldron, you desperately and dramatically wish to show that you have more than is there. Interestingly, when your cauldron is over-flowing, you often try to put a discreet lid on it. Those who have known both conditions, understand this the best.”

“He accepted her rarity and eccentricity, and even more so, totally adored it. It was something that she couldn’t even ever do for herself. Therefore, he owned her heart, forevermore.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Like Father, Like Son

Our son almost lost his wedding ring on his honeymoon. He was working out in the hotel’s gym, and not being used to wearing the ring, he slid it off his sweaty finger and set it on the particular machine he was working out on. He then proceeded to go up to his hotel room, pack up his things with his lovely new bride, and was about to enter a ferry boat to the next island on their itinerary, when he looked down at his hand and he realized, in a panic, that his wedding ring was gone. Frantically he called the front desk, who thankfully found the ring and had a courier get it to the newlyweds, before they entered the ferry boat. We are all so relieved for this happy ending.

My own husband is on his third wedding ring. He also lost his wedding ring on our honeymoon. The good news is, I have been with my husband, both times he has lost his ring. The bad news is, we’ve had to pay for both replacements, and my husband has very large hands. The first time my husband lost his wedding ring (on our honeymoon) was probably both of our faults. He kept saying that his ring was too big and that he would have to get it sized when we got home. However, being a young, romantic, new bride, I didn’t want him to take it off. So guess what fell off during our snorkeling adventure? We went to a jewelery store on the little island of St. Martin and purchased a replacement the very next day (did I mention that I was a young, romantic, new bride and should I say, perhaps, a little bit “possessive”?). The second time my husband lost his wedding ring, was when we were boating together, after a period of time that he had lost some weight. Since then, whenever we are around a large body of water, my husband changes out his gold wedding band for one of the black silicone plastic bands which so many of the young men seem to sport around with these days, with their active, hands-on lives.

To be clear, I am not writing this in judgment. I have already confessed to almost losing my own (and much more expensive) engagement ring in this story from the archives:

From the “No Horse Pucky” Archives

Our family has been a little careless with our wedding rings over the years. The more important thing is, we’re not careless with the love and the loyalty and the steadfastness that these rings represent.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Epic

I arrived home late yesterday night from a 14 day journey throughout England, Wales and Scotland, that also included the real-life, fairy-tale wedding, in an old English castle, of our son and our daughter-in-law. Someone recently told me that we overuse the word “epic” in today’s society, and I agree. However, the physical, emotional and spiritual adventure that I just experienced deserves the adjective “epic”, and maybe something even more.

My courageous, ambitious husband insisted that we rent a car for our journey, which, other than for the wedding, we traveled mostly on a total whim, which ended up with us staying in nine different establishments throughout the United Kingdom, while my husband drove (on the “wrong” side of the road) precariously through almost 1400 miles of teeny one lane roads, meant to be shared by everyone, including cars headed in both directions, bicyclists and even an occasional cow or sheep.

Having already fully experienced London a couple of years ago, we headed right out to the Cotswolds from Heathrow (yes, the Cotswolds are every bit as charming and lovely as you imagine it). We explored Oxford University, met up with family in Bath and toured the ancient Roman baths and then we luxiariated in the modernized version of the baths, at our hotel. Next, we headed to the wedding, which turned into everything my daughter-in-law, and her very English mother, had conjured up in their most wild of imaginations, since our daughter-in-law was a little girl, ending up as a beautiful, magical, almost unreal occasion, finalized with a stunning surprise fireworks display. Coming off from the high of the wedding, my husband and I did the most intriguing part of the journey for me – we explored Wales, from bottom to top. I recently found out that the largest percentage of my DNA is actually Welsh, and so my interest was selfishly heightened. I adored Wales (and their Welsh cakes). My husband kept saying “this place is just so untouched.” We drove from one adorable, hobbit like village to another – one cuter than the next. There were flowers everywhere, nestled among the most captivating little archaic homes and cottages. I felt like we happened upon a “best kept secret”, mystical little countryside, almost as if we had walked through the wardrobe, into Narnia. One night, in a small town on the coast of Wales, we ended up in a pub, where a woman just a year older than me was celebrating her birthday. She and I bonded, I suppose because of our similar ages and sensibilities (or perhaps lack thereof), and when I told her about my Welsh heritage, the entire establishment sang a beautiful ballad in Welsh (which brought me to tears), because I told her that I wanted to hear Welsh spoken (Welsh sung is even better). What I love about the pubs in the United Kingdom, is that every age is represented. There are older men in three piece suits and caps, dancing with their wives, right along side the young lads and ladies, and they all bond together, singing their ancient songs of their ancient lands, full of pride and community and onenness. From Wales, we capped off our trip, driving into the deep wilds of Scotland. Starting in the stately Ediburgh, and then ending up deep into the rugged Scottish Highlands, we hiked among herds of peaceful, curious sheep, feeling lost in time and in the melding of our own innate nature, with the awestriking, formidable, beautiful, timeless nature all around us, panoramically, for as far as the eyes can see. We spent our final night in Glasgow which is a fun, irreverent, artsy, university town. On the last night, my husband and I both sat, hand-in-hand, in our shared joy, truly satiated by having our curiosities fed and satisfied by wonders of every kind, which beat both of our expectations, in spades.

I could bore you with an intricate slide show, and details that are probably only important to me, but I won’t. That being said, I know that anyone having an adventure in the United Kingdom will find something to love, and something that breaks them open to the profound wonder in their hearts, in the deepest, most personal way possible. Trust me on this. Go. Make the United Kingdom, a “Bucket List Must.” My only real disappointment in our trip, is that the Scottish Highland cows aren’t nearly as prolific as the plethora of schlock in the souvenier shops would lead you to believe. We really had to go searching for particular farms to see these “heilan coos” in person, but it was worth it. Yes, they are adorable!

Truthfully, though, the epic road trip was just a divine sideshow. The real major happening in my heart, is that another child of mine, committed themselves fully and publicly, to the love of his life. And I’m not worried about these precious babies of mine. Having been high school sweethearts, attending college together, going through medical school (him) and physician assistant school (her) in the worldly, wild city of Miami, and supporting and loving each other through all ten years of these intense growing up years of their lives, I want to believe that the rest of it all is going to be (welsh)cake for them, from here on out. Of course, I want this. All of us parents want life to be wonderful, easy and happy for our children. And a lot of the time it is. And also, a lot of the time it isn’t. But what truly feeds my heart with gratefulness, is that another one of my children has found someone who loves him as deeply as I love him. My son has found a person who wants only the best for him, and wants to share in that with him for the rest of their lives. As a parent, the relief and the joy and the gratitude and the pride that you feel when your child has partnered up with a soul as kind, and as solid, and as devoted as they are, is almost overwhelming. Life is better shared. I am lucky enough to know this personally. And this year, two of my children have headed further down the paths of their own lives, hand in hand, with their true, devoted loves. And all I have to say is about this is thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. In my life, this is what is truly epic.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Dolly

I wrote yesterday’s post as a little peace of mind for me, with the plans of only loading up Adulting – Second Half when I return from the wedding and my trip in later September, but then yesterday, the world lost a really, really, really good one. I’m not a huge country music fan, and I’m not one to be a “fangirl” to celebrities, but like so many, I’ve shed a few sincere tears about the loss of Dolly Parton, and I’m betting I’ll shed a few more.

There’s nothing to say, that hasn’t already been eloquently said about an amazing, inspiring, “true to herself, true to her family and friends, and most importantly, true to her amazingly huge, beautiful heart”, performer, songwriter, altruist, and all-around incredible, one-of-a-kind human being, Dolly Parton. For a person who loved to write (she said she’d open up her “drawers’ drawer” and find notes that she had jotted down to write yet another song), ironically, there are no real, actual words to encapsulate a life so well-lived.

I pray and I imagine that when people think about what the best of what the United States, and “the American Dream” has to offer, Dolly Parton would be one of our finest examples. I think that we all have a little bit of Dolly in us. She unapologetically gave all of her “Dolly” out into the world. To honor what she gave to our own living experience (and this spans generations, all over the world), if we would all unapologetically give “that little bit of Dolly” in each of us, out into this world, on an everyday basis, can you imagine the difference? Dolly Parton loved sparkle and she was a light. Too much sparkle and light was never too much for her. If we all shined our own little inner lights, just a little bit more, like a stadium full of flashlights, or the starriest night sky, can you imagine just how much more bright and kind, and beautiful and joyful, this world would be? As it has been and will continually be repeated by all who remember her, Dolly, we will always love you. In Dolly’s words:

“Find out who you are and do it on purpose”.

“If you see someone without a smile today, give ’em yours.”

“I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence.”

“You’ll never do a whole lot unless you’re brave enough to try.”

“I make a point to appreciate all the little things in my life. I go out and smell the air after a good, hard rain. These small actions help remind me that there are so many great, glorious pieces of good in the world.”

“I think everybody should be allowed to be who they are, and to love who they love.”

“I’m the little engine that did.”

“I’ve always tried to never step on anybody to get where I am. I’ve had to walk around a few people, jump over a few of ‘em now and then, but I think you’re a true success when you’ve seen your dreams come true and you can take pride in how you did it, and take pride in and respect and appreciate the people that helped you get there.”

“Being a star just means that you just find your own special place, and that you shine where you are.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Checking In About Checking Out

Dear Readers,

It occurred to me that I have been carefully checking in with the people whom I am closest to – letting them know that I care, even if I seem distant and/or unavailable, lately. I have been telling my loved ones that I am just in a digestion state of all of the change that has occurred (and is occurring) in a short period in my life, and I best sort out my thoughts and my feelings in my solitude. I ask them to be patient with me. I remind those dearest to me that I love them and I care about them. You, my readers, are a very important relationship in my life. I appreciate you, and I am grateful for you, more than you know. I realize that I owe you this same consideration. Please be patient with me. I love you.

When I was young, I naively thought that all change was relatively instantaneous. People are single. Then they get married. People are students, then they are professessionals. People are childless. Then they are parents. People are alive, then they die. The truth is much more nuanced. Even changes that seem sudden on the outside, usually take a great deal more time to process and to move through on an internal basis. A change happens, and then we have to work through that change to come to a level of peace and acceptance with it. Most change comes with heavy doses of both joy and grief. We are changed by change, but this internal change never happens in minutes, or days, even if the physical change itself, did happen, out of left field, in a mere instant.

Recently, a memory from twelve years ago, popped up on my feed. It was a picture of us dropping our eldest child at college for the first time. Our four children have happy/sad expressions on their faces. They are standing closer to each other than usual. They don’t know what to expect. None of us did. Change brings fear because it is a walk into the unknown. Change also brings excitement because it is a walk into the unknown. In all of these twelve years since that picture was taken, all four of our children ended up attending that same university and graduating from it (our youngest child graduated from there, this past May). They have since all started their professional lives and embarked on their complete independence from us, their misty-eyed, reluctant, hopeful and relieved parents. This year, our eldest son got married. Our second eldest son is getting married in two weeks. When I looked at that photograph from 12 years ago, I thought to myself, “That was the very beginning of the end of my raising children, and now, this year, I am at the end of the end of raising children.” This change in my life has physically taken twelve years. I think that this major transition I’ve been going through, may even take a little bit longer to set in for me, both mentally and spiritually. I am quietly and reflectively guiding myself towards peace and acceptance. I am allowing both the grief and the excitement that only major life changes can bring, settle into my heart and into my being and into my understanding and wisdom.

So, this was my long way of saying, “Don’t give up on me. Adulting – Second Half isn’t going anywhere. In fact, I have a hunch that it even may come back with a vengeance, as writing is the best way I process anything in my life.” We are taking a long trip right after the wedding, so I may not be back here until later in September. But, assuredly, I will be back!

I’m going to end with this quote, I read recently (you know I love me some quotes):

“Be crumpled. So wildflowers will come up where you are. You have been stony for too many years. Try something different. Surrender.” – Rumi

See you later in September! (please read some of the archives in the meantime – there are some gems in there)

Much love,

Kelly

The Never-Ending Story

My friends and I often laugh ruefully about the fact that no one ever warns you about the fact that motherhood (and fatherhood) is a lifetime gig, with no off-ramp. You go into it kind of like “oh, I really want to raise a baby, I really want to raise a family” with a whole lot of mysterious help from your hormones and instincts, and really, little else to go on . . . . Starting a family is mostly a deep, natural yearning of sorts, for so many of us. You realize that embarking on raising a family, is more serious and complicated than adopting a puppy, but no one person, nor any book, nor anything else, ever fully prepares you for the monumental feelings, and responsibility and vulnerability which you will inevitably feel for the rest of the entirety of your whole life.

Last night, as we were headed to bed, our youngest son texts that he was headed to do his first open mic at a comedy club. This is the first I had heard of actual, concrete plans for him to do this. He also mentioned that he was a little concerned because everyone else there had notebooks full of material. Our youngest son is truly really funny, and yet also, he is probably our most sensitive, emotional child, and he also has epileptic seizures that are most often triggered by stress. While simultaneously sending excited, supportive texts to him, my own stress levels started skyrocketing with this information, and as I was attempting calming breathing exercises, a few minutes later, our daughter (who now lives in a whole different time zone from us) called to tell us that she had been rear-ended and was on the side of the highway with the other driver, who was refusing to share her insurance information.

As we are currently having an eventful family year, that includes two of our children’s weddings and a college graduation, my husband and I naively dubbed this month to be “Absolutely All About Us August“. We figured that we would keep plans light this month, to take a beat and completely hit the reset button, until the second wedding festivities come upon us next month (did I mention that this second wedding is in an entirely different country?). How does the saying go – “when you make plans, God laughs”?!?

All ended well. Our daughter and the other driver were not hurt, there was little to no damage to the cars, and they managed to eventually exchange information with a little help from 911. Our son liked the open mic experience so well, he plans to do it again tonight. Our nerves shot, it took my husband and I a little while to fall to sleep last night, and when I woke up, I remembered that I had dreamt that I was let go by a mass shooter. I guess that this was my brain’s dramatic way to say, “you dodged a bullet, lady.” I did. And (as always) I thanked God continually for keeping my (adult) children protected from others (and from themselves). And mostly (as always), I thanked God for my children, to love for the rest of my life.

“Love is staying up all night with a sick child — or a healthy adult.” — David Frost

“You will always be your child’s favorite toy.” — Vicki Lansk

“I will pray over and for you as long as there is breath in my body… I will be your biggest fan forever and always.” – Unknown

“There really are places in the heart you don’t even know exist until you love a child.” — Anne Lamott

“Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now, I have six children and no theories.” — John Wilmot 

“What it’s like to be a parent: It’s one of the hardest things you’ll ever do but in exchange it teaches you the meaning of unconditional love.” — Nicholas Sparks

“Parenting without a sense of humor is like being an accountant who sucks at math.” — Amber Dusick

“You must first teach a child he is loved. Only then is he ready to learn everything else.” — Amanda Morgan

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Wednesday’s Whimsies

+ A wise friend recently gave me this tip when it comes to intrusive rumination. She said, “Envision a box or a file in your brain. When the same old worry thought shows up to be “solved” (Ha!) and ruminated on, tell yourself this, ‘I will put this thought in the box and I’ll take this thought back out, only when it serves me’. You will find that you will never need that particular thought again, ever.” (spoiler alert- these types of thoughts never serve you in a good way) I know that this trick sounds silly, but I’ve tried it, and it works. There’s apparently a science to it. First, this tip makes you notice and stop the thought train in its tracks, and second, it tricks the brain into believing that it is still “taking care of things” by keeping the thought “filed” for future use.

+ “We don’t need to save other people. We need to save ourselves from the belief that we need to save other people.” – Cheri Huber I think a lot of women, particularly us mothers, may have a tinge of “savior complex.” I know that I do. It comes from a good place and a noble motivation. Everything I’ve struggled with, I want to “save” the others whom I love, from the work and the angst and the fear and the heartbreak and the frustration and the shame and the doubts, that came from my ordeals. But if I’m honest with myself, some of my favorite traits of myself – resilience, authenticity, creativity, faithfulness, empathy, optimism, foresightedness, etc. were the outcomes of going through some of the toughest situations which I have ever endured. Fire forges steel. Why would I want to rob anyone whom I care about, the chance to meet their absolute best selves? Why would I want to make anyone I care about feel like they weren’t capable and best suited for taking care of themselves and creating their own unique lives, exactly as they see fit? Isn’t it a tad presumptuous and controlling to believe that anyone needs saving, and I am the one (wearing the cape) to do it? Isn’t the project of “me” enough for one lifetime?

+ “We won’t be distracted by comparison, if we’re captivated with purpose.” – Bob Goff

“Avarice never wrote a good novel; hate did not paint The Birth of Venus; nor did envy reveal to us that the squares of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the two sides. Every creation of humankind’s mind that has stood the buffering of time was born of love – love of something or someone.” – Harper Lee

For most of my adult life, I have felt really purposeful about co-creating a healthy marriage and successfully raising a large family. There were trajectories in my husband’s and my heritages that we wanted to keep, and also ones that we desperately wanted to change. My purpose of creating and growing my family to adulthood was born of love – the greatest love that I have ever felt in my life. My love will always be a bedrock for my family, but now that my children are grown, I can focus more on other personal purposes in my life. When I write, I am captivated with purpose. This blog was born of love and it remains full of love. I love the action of writing. I love you, my readers, for validating the blog and it’s existence and the existence of my creations, just by being here and reading and witnessing. The “thought trick” that I wrote about in my first bullet point, is a really good tool to use, to make sure you are staying on the track of living out your life’s purposes. Purpose feels good and natural. It feels captivating and sometimes even feels time-stopping. Purpose is born out of love. Anything else that comes up that isn’t a compliment to your sense of purpose, needs to be put in the proverbial “box/file”. These negative thoughts and the painful emotions that inevitably come with these thoughts are not part of your purpose. The things/thoughts which you deep down know need to be put into that box (distraction, comparison, rumination, avarice, hate, envy) – these things DO NOT SERVE. These things are not born of love, they are not part of your purpose and therefore, they will not survive the buffering of time. Love is eternal. Love is. All else passes away.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday Got Me Good

“How alive your heart to feel such sorrow!” – from Catherine Newman’s bestselling book, Sandwich

So last month, I was out to lunch with two friends and our one friend gave each of us a different book that she had finished reading. She told us to read them and then to swap them. So the other day, my generous book-giving friend mentioned in a casual text to me that our other friend had finished her book. I hadn’t even started mine. So, in a frenzied mix of competiveness and a dutiful sense of consideration, I finished my book, front to back, all on Monday. That book was Sandwich by Catherine Newman, and it was essentially a heart-bearing, brutally honest account of a woman in the exact stage of life me and my friends are in – empty nest, menopause, having the people whom we love on both ends of our lives, slowly and methodically fading out of our lives, in different ways. Being in the “sandwich” stage of life, our adult children are moving out and on, and our elders are slowing, aging and sometimes even passing on. Newman mentioned something about us being at a “fulcrum” stage of our lives. Sandwich was a great, relatable read, mostly in how it touched on the big emotions and the almost feeling of disbelief, which this stage of our lives brings to the table. For me, the book was mainly a reflection of the poignancy of life and the beauty of love and living fully. Here is my favorite excerpt from the book:

“Here’s what foragers know: Most of what grows is neither delicious nor toxic. There’s a whole world between what we call the choice edibles- the hazelnuts and porcini and black raspberries- and say, the destroying angel mushrooms that will shut down all your organ systems after a single nibble. You can eat the grass, the lichen, and the inner bark of most trees, a thousand kinds of leaves. Not that you would, but you could. So much of privileged adulthood seems to take place here, in the space between the soaring highs and the killing disasters. It’s just plain life, beautiful in its familiar subtlety, its decency and dailiness.”

So after finishing the book, I felt a little more fragile than usual. My feelings were closer to the surface and at that moment, I remembered that I had to get six pictures of various stages of my middle son’s life to his future mother-in-law for their upcoming wedding shower. That entailed me and my husband opening up one of two enormous plastic tubs, with dusty lids, in the garage, full of photographs. Photos I haven’t viewed in years. Photos full of my children in baby clothes, and sports uniforms, and prom attire and cuddling with various pets. Photos full of vacations taken, birthdays celebrated, and sweet everyday moments which we were lucky enough to catch on camera, because something deep in us, wanting a sweet token of that simple moment for posterity. The box was full of pictures of people who are still in our lives at all different stages of their lives, and also of people who, for various reasons, are no longer in our lives. There were literally piles and piles of pictures of the life of our family, at every single stage of it. And so yeah, Monday got to me. Monday got me good.

Besides nostaglia, and meloncholy, and wishing that certain things had turned out differently, but also primarily feeling awe and gratefulness for how well most of those “raising the kids” years had gone, I also sensed myself feeling deep compassion for young mother me in all of those pictures. She was much prettier and thinner and obviously more engaged and earnest than I ever gave her credit for being. I was so damn tough on her a lot of the times. I wish I could reach back in time and offer her a glimpse of the grace I feel for her now. I guess the best thing I can do, is offer up that same grace to myself, now, in this meaningful stage of my life, so that when I am elderly and peering through the stacks (or reels) of photos and mementos, I can recognize myself as exactly who I am – a faithful forager, doing my best to enjoy and to savor my “just plain life, beautiful in its familiar subltety, its decency and dailiness.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Birthday Reflections

Happy Birthday, USA! I was here for our bicentennial. I was five years old. I clearly remember all of the hoopla and all of the “schlock”. I read yesterday about a professor who created a large curation and collection of 1976 bicentennial “schlock”. (there was even a red/white/blue condom which referenced fireworks) He later donated the collection to one of the Ivy League universities, believing it carries important insight into our American culture. As I was reading the article, it occurred to me that this 250th celebration doesn’t seem quite as “in your face” as the 1976 one did. Now this could be because in 1976 I was a young child and everything seems bigger and more incredible when you are little, but I don’t think that is the reason. This year’s July 4th celebrations (other than in our nation’s capital) seem relatively subdued considering the milestone we have reached. But that’s okay. Because, honestly, we’ve gotten something much better than an overload of tacky red, white and blue crap. In a time period, when everyone is weary of divisiveness and politics and fearmongering, we got hundreds of thousands of visitors from all over the world, many with fresh eyes to our country, having never been here before, being perfectly astounded and amazed by what our people and our country have to offer: enormous portions of food and drink, gorgeous nature that goes on and on, friendly, kind people who want to make you feel welcome, air conditioning everywhere and running strong, sunshine, cultures within cultures, can-do optimism, giant trucks and cars, huge arenas and venues . . . . the list goes on and on and on. I keep watching the reels of excited visitors, as my eyes get misty. I’ve always been proud and utterly grateful to be an American, but this surprising reminder from foreigners of the many, many reasons why we are so lucky to be Americans is the best birthday present the USA could ask for – thank you, World Cup!

It also occurred to me yesterday that I will be lucky to reach the USA’s tricentennial. (I am going to have to cut down on my American large portions, if I even want a shot at it) I probably won’t be around to celebrate it, but America will. I have no doubts and the United States will be stronger, and more clear-visioned and more inspirational to the entire world than it ever has been before.

I follow a writer, who is sort of “new age” named Tam Veilleux. I was honestly a little surprised and totally delighted by how she closed out her most recent newsletter. These are her words (I couldn’t agree more nor say it better myself):

“Lastly, because this hits my heart so loudly: Happy Birthday, America. I’m wildly patriotic by nature. Maybe it’s the long line of family members who served in the military. Maybe it’s my deep appreciation for the revolutionary spirit of those who fought for freedom. Though we still have room to grow, I celebrate all that America is…its greatness and its growing pains. It’s home, and I love it deeply.

If you are an American reader, I hope this week finds you reconnecting with what you love about this country. And if you’re reading from elsewhere in the world, thank you for bearing witness to our growing pains and holding space for us as we continue learning how to become better citizens of Earth.

Sending big love and even bigger fireworks!“

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Gaping

Our only daughter, our youngest of four kids, and the last to leave the nest, takes off in about a couple of weeks, for a fabulous new job opportunity, in a state that is a two-day drive from us, in a whole different time-zone. Lately, my sweet friends and relations have been sending me texts, kindly asking me how I’m doing and how I’m feeling. My pat answer has been, “Doing well, just trying to soak her all in. Smiley emoji. Thumbs up emoji.” Perhaps I should go with the more truthful, modern answer, “I don’t know. It’s complicated.” But, I won’t. I don’t want anyone to try to poke at my carefully created shield. I’m still in “mother-mode.” I’ve got to be my daughter’s cool, calm, collected safety net. I’ve got to be that reassuring presence that tells her (and tells me) that everything is going to be okay. And it will be. I know this from the bottom of my heart, but still . . . How am I feeling about all of this?

I don’t know. It’s complicated. It’s a complicated mash of every feeling under the sun that I’m still trying to keep under the lid of my shield – a shield that protects others from a violent storm of emotion that would only inevitably be followed by that way too uncomfortable cloud of discomfort and cringe which just hangs in the air after any kind of explosion of passionate feelings, and also a shield that protects me from an intensity of feelings that I’m not ready to feel yet. I have so many feelings flying around, under the radar of my carefully crafted shield, that I have even witnessed myself having strong feelings about those feelings, all swirling around, all at the same time. And right along with this massive, swirling cone of conflicting emotions, I have an internal high and mighty judge and jury telling me which of these feelings are “correct” for me to have, and which of these feelings are “wrong” and “shameful.” Honestly, a statement that has always been hard for me to grapple with is “Both things can be true at the same time.” This is a hard concept for me. I like cut and dry. I like logic. I like “truth.” I get annoyed when people use the term “that’s my truth” too much. It seems like a cop-out to me. I like to believe that there are actually a fair amount of factual truths that just can’t be denied. And yet, when it comes to feelings, I’m having to come to terms with the idea that “eight million things can be true at the same time.” And that is the truth. And that’s okay.

How am I feeling about all of this – my youngest now really and truly embarking on her adulthood and moving far away from me, bookended by two of her brothers’ weddings, all in the span of a few short months?

Overwhelmed. Happy. Sad. Nostalgic. Relieved. Excited for them. Excited for me. Excited for my husband. Worried for them. Worried for me. Worried for my husband. Tired. Proud. Impressed with myself. Disappointed in myself. Hopeful. Out of sorts. Organized. Disorganized. Astounded. Needy. Ecstatic. Protective. Patient. Impatient. Grateful. Scared. Small. Big. Guilty. Enough. Not Enough. Supportive. Not wanting to be supportive. Listless. Astounded. Scattered. Lost. Found. Misdirected. Accomplished. Agitated. Confused. Insecure. Exhausted. Lonely. Craving solitude. Reflective. Empathetic. Energized. Fearful. Confident. Faithful. Old. Newly young. Free. Righteous. Curious. Doubtful. Even sometimes angry, and maybe even a little envious of all the new experiences that my children all have ahead of them. Open. Assured. Defensive. Questioning. But mostly, I feel gaping. I feel totally gaping with Love and Vulnerability. Gaping. Yep, I feel absolutely gaping wide.

How am I feeling about all of this change in my life? (shield goes up)

Thank you for asking. I’m good. I’m just trying to soak my daughter all up before she leaves. Smiley emoji. Thumbs up emoji.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.