 In the quiet warmth of our family bathroom, a pink sun just about set behind half closed blinds, I watch as my daughter gently washes her brother’s back. She swirls the lavender scented soap in soft circles while he sits patiently, calmly, relaxed in her care. She lifts a toy cup filled with water to pour onto his shoulders and down his arms. He sighs an exaggerated ahhh in response. All of this is unprompted by mom, who just happened to look up from folding the laundry pile of clean clothes at the right moment.
This act of love catches in my throat to witness, and again now, as I write it out. This exchange of trust roots into my bones that perhaps I am doing *something* right as their mama; that the work I put into this role nurtures connection even when it feels like motherhood is a lot of correction… Fall has arrived, as promised, once again. Physically, it looks like longer morning walks with Ivy, books upon books stacked high on my nightstand, hot coffee sipped from comforting, old mugs and organizing cozy sweaters in preparation for cooler days. It has elements of cleaning out the old and exploring a simpler way of being. Emotionally? It is praying, listening, connecting with intention and integrity. It’s letting the rest fall away, guided by the example of changing leaves outside my windows. It’s choosing what is in service, over what is simply taking up unnecessary space. It is acts of love and exchanges of trust, starting in relationship to self. Recently I was chatting with a dear friend on the phone while she tended to her garden. We were speaking about the nature of difficult decisions and change; on the art of letting go. “It’s like these flowers, Trish”, she said, “We dead-head to redirect the energy, so that new life can grow.” How beautiful is that? And how very organic to the way of the earth, knowing the leaves will model life/death/life cycles. Knowing they fall in service to the new blooms of Spring. In this, it is safe to trust. In trust, we are freest to love. in gratitude, trish
0 Comments
|