Life is life. (no adjective needed)
Time is always.
Love unconditional, sustains.
It has taken three years of work, of letting go, of holding on, of work with two therapists, of dropped friendships, of fear, of argument, of medications, of writing, of walking through fears, of compassion, of passions, of discovery of this self. . . and I can now meditate again. 15 minutes of not thinking.
And no I cannot sit on a cushion on the floor. I do not pray for anyone one or anything. I swat the doings of life away with my eyes closed. And breathe the scent of our old furniture, the music of cars and bird song, focus on this one small blue glass berry in my ceiling light, and forgive myself, and breathe because I can.
Sometime I think I’m stealing away from the world. Some time I think I’m stealing myself against my world. But really I’m just hiding from myself.
“I am straight but not narrow” is a button I used have and wore on my denim jacket. For Mother’s Day, I am reposting this. . .why? Because when I had my son 31 years ago, I was called an ‘unwed mother’ and ‘give the baby up because children need two parents to be normal’ and ‘you can’t do this’. . . and while I love my parents, they were wrong.
I stood my ground and raised my son and like all of us, we bumbled along with joys and sadness, fights and delights, and love. And now he’s a dad, working from home, doing that balance with a very busy toddler.
Thank You, Mr. President.
About a year ago I wrote on how the first grand child is the one to name you. I go by Ammi, so I started with Grammi.
The eighteen-month-old boy calls me Meme (Mee Mee). And then shakes his head just a little so he can see my mop of hair move. While on the changing table, if I lean over, he takes a small fistful and tickles his own nose with my hair.
And smile, giggles and wiggles and his Dad, my son gets a bit frustrated because getting a diaper on a wiggle-butt is challenging enough.
The Transplant who has become accustomed to more sunlight that New England has provided over the last ten days, loves the puddle splashing, the rock finding and then tossing and the little hand that takes mine when we walk.
Like me, he loves a walk in the woods, and creeks and sticks. He said: “Meme, pretty eyes.” But mostly he commands: Up on! Back out! Walk, walk on (sidewalk) Put back! and of course “Bye Bye”