I've been so humbled of late, so brought ground-level by the energetic output of mothering
and trying to run SunnyRising like a well-oiled machine.
Being a loving partner to my Schmilly.
Being a daughter, friend and contributing member of society.
Putting on makeup. And a bra.
Maintaining my level of fitness.
Making hot dinners.
Using less/no plastic.
Those God-forsaken leaf miner bugs!!!!!
Going outside without oatmeal handprints on my butt.
Teaching my child manners.
Drawing clear and fair boundaries.
Letting my child teach me wonder, one of the first things to get dulled with this much tired.
My list of expectations for myself is crazy high
and I'm working on shaving it down
down
down
to China Town.
Custom orders (when taken) take longer.
Dinner might not be anything more than a miraculous eggie bowl (recipes later, maybe)
or a request that takeout be brought home.
Motherhood trumps lots of stuff
but self-care MUST be found.
I think I must have put it in THAT drawer,
in that 'safe' place where all the lost things meander.
I don't think there's anything wrong with being like, "Hey, I'm treading water over here!!"
in a world where it's mostly frowned upon.
"Have another coffee, dig deeper" - (I see it all the time in gym culture -)
just find more to give!"
Those are no longer solutions.
Those are cruelties.
I know the line.
Lord Lou I have crossed it so many times since I became a mother:
it feels so mountain-lake refreshing to be like
"Fuck it, I am s u n k."
As a profound lover of this earthly life
I don't worship this time, these moments any less for its (their) utter exhaustion -
I love it differently.
I honor its seasonal nature
and trust that beyond this place is another season,
neither better nor worse that will sustain and deplete me.
Some are more glamorous than others.
Some are less physical.
I know when those moments of resistance come, when I want to label something 'amazing' or 'bad'
and that simply takes more than I've got right now
I skip the dramatics and just B R E A T H E.
It's all here before us, why not breathe through it?
We're these watchers and we cling and reject and cling and reject
the things we observe, the little we think we have control over...
I call this beautiful time of depletion recognition "White -Flaggin' It"
and I think it's okay as frequently as it needs to be admitted
to say it out loud -
to ask a friend to come sit with you for tea and be real
because you're no less lovable in this place than when your soul-pantries are full to the brim.
Soul-pantries? Soul-pantries.
Anyhow...
I hope you take the time as often as you need it
to gently sit where your history has planted you
and hold up that bright flag as a gesture of grace and surrender
and wait for that Hand
to come and cradle you close,
a safe place to breathe and rest
your beautiful
beautiful
bones.
You are no less for waving the white flag
in a go-go world
.
xoxo,
Sunny
5 comments:
Soul. Pantries.
xoxoxxo
As a still-new-and-budding-flagger who just woke up from a two hour nap in the middle of a Monday, I heartily approve of this message!
I love you. All of you. Soul pantries included.
Ohhh this is So good. So nourishing A in it's breath and tone and honesty. Charge on you brave, imperfectly beautiful spirit!
This was a beautiful post! Those words rang true and deep....yes. Keeping those *soul pantries* replenished = vitality. Thanks for writing this...xo
What Cat said.
Also, you are--more and more--one of the bravest women I know and am privileged to read.
Post a Comment