A Space To Write

 Tonight I was thinking how much I miss writing. I write my thoughts in the Notes app on my phone. I write in my journal. But I miss “published” writing. Putting my thoughts out there in a very vulnerable way. 

Reading back on some of my past posts here, a part of me wants to cringe at the younger, carefree thoughts I would share here. And at the same time, I am so in awe of the younger version of myself that would post so freely. I love looking back and seeing growth. 

In the past six years since I last posted, I have become a mother. There isn’t one single post that could capture the range of emotional growth that has come with nurturing the intelligent, sensitive daughter whom God has entrusted to my care. Nor do I intend for this to become a “mom’s blog” which encapsulates advice that I do not feel equipped to give. For now, the mention of my daughter is simply to express the “lifequake” that happened in October of 2021. Lifequake is a term I found on the “She’s On Fire” Facebook page. They describe a lifequake as “a significant and unexpected shift in the trajectory of your life that initially feels [overwhelming] but has the beneficial outcome of catalyzing personal growth, transformation and rebirth."

 I couldn’t think of a better way to describe my own process of becoming a mother. I’m not ready to blog about those details yet. They are tender buds of growth that I am nurturing along side my beautiful three year old. Heck, it’s still even hard for me to even put the word “God” in a post. I’m still deconstructing what spirituality and religion are alongside motherhood after a long period of atheism. 

I will leave with this: a note I wrote late at night. Words that needed to come out of my head so I could sleep. They belong here now. I hope you all can find the gentle beauty in simple moments in the midst of this crazy, chaotic time.

A pessimistic view

How can we view humanity as a gift? When we live in bodies where any number of things are at risk of going wrong at any given moment. When a politician can yank away our health care, job, safety net at any given year. Based on the “will of the majority.” Or under the guise of “freedom.”

What kind of a loving god would send us into a life so fragile where everything we love, anything that offers us security could be taken away in one breath. What kind of senseless “gift” is it to be here, enduring the constant anxiety?

Gifts and beauty come as whispers. 

In the breeze that sweeps away the sweat at a Red Rocks concert.

To finally feel the tears break through along side the pain of something very young and primal. And welcoming every one of them. 

To hear my daughter sing along to our favorite songs from the back seat. To feel her brave arms twist around my neck during “last big goodbye” during morning drop offs at school. 

Goosebumps when my husband lightly rubs my back. 

A song whose deep lyrics were lost on me in college, but bring tears in the present. How close the knowledge was to me, but I couldn’t comprehend. 

Listening to the knowing in my gut/body. It will never steer me wrong. 

A beagle offering her body as a heating pad for my cramps.

Baring my soul to a therapist and having even the darkest parts met with warmth, kindness, understanding.

A book I can’t put down. A sentence from someone else’s mind that so perfectly describes a strand of my existence. 

Laughing so hard I cry. At my own thoughts and also almost every time I am with my brother.