I'm back from California! Seven days with my mom and sister (Robyn and I both on our moons, no less) without dispute. I can hardly believe it. I am struck even more by the fact that I rarely found myself even slightly triggered in my time with them. I experienced our connection as deep, loving, and harmonically centered to hear the needs of all. A few years ago, our record was 2 1/2 days, then someone would melt down, and we'd all wish that vacation had ended 3 hours earlier. What happened?
Over the past couple of years, I have been knee-deep in the slosh pile of love's refuse. I have come to terms with my husband transitioning into a woman and friend while staying connected to parent our children in partnership. I have loved and let go another man dear to my heart. I have parented in it all, struggling to see my children through the awe and tears of everything else as it unfolded before me. I have grown.
Two weeks ago, I pulled up my rubber boots a little higher and set out a little further into the mire. Whatever happened to going through it? I wondered. Am I really growing here (yes, said my heart, and there is no limit to what you might learn), or am I just touring round and round the same tree? I asked for some sign, in my moment of frailty, that would indicate that all of this exploration is of service to myself, the all. A yardstick?
So there we were. Three ladies, three dudes, and a donkey picking flowers and making peace in the same field. Speaking our truths. Softening to listen. Leaning into each other with our tears.
In truth, the donkey only picks weeds. Her name is "Grace." She is the first ass my mother has been able to successfully cover. Photos to come.
Over the past couple of years, I have been knee-deep in the slosh pile of love's refuse. I have come to terms with my husband transitioning into a woman and friend while staying connected to parent our children in partnership. I have loved and let go another man dear to my heart. I have parented in it all, struggling to see my children through the awe and tears of everything else as it unfolded before me. I have grown.
Two weeks ago, I pulled up my rubber boots a little higher and set out a little further into the mire. Whatever happened to going through it? I wondered. Am I really growing here (yes, said my heart, and there is no limit to what you might learn), or am I just touring round and round the same tree? I asked for some sign, in my moment of frailty, that would indicate that all of this exploration is of service to myself, the all. A yardstick?
So there we were. Three ladies, three dudes, and a donkey picking flowers and making peace in the same field. Speaking our truths. Softening to listen. Leaning into each other with our tears.
In truth, the donkey only picks weeds. Her name is "Grace." She is the first ass my mother has been able to successfully cover. Photos to come.
1 comment:
Truly, that's a significant distance to measure. You've come a long way, baby!
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