For the first time in the history of being a parent (almost 6.5 years), I spent 7 nights away from my children, combined with some serious geographical distance. I recently returned from an overseas conference all the way over in sunny San Diego. I came home to a clean house, and two well-kept children that were very very happy to see their mother. Okay, I don’t think my daughter’s hair had been brushed since I left, but otherwise, they were fine. I was so happy to see them, so grateful to have been an independent for 7 whole days while simultaneously maintaining my connection with these babies of mine. I didn’t want to let them go.
It took only a few nights until I woke up feeling overwhelmed, melancholic, and praying for a break. It wasn’t because of my kids, and it wasn’t because my life is terrible, but I find that when something big inside is shifting, when you are going up a steep incline in your personal evolution, it takes time for your body to adjust to it’s new altitude, and until it does, your body and mind feel sluggish. I just wish I had someone else to carry my pack for these few steps, but on these types of journeys its always only you. Instead of fighting this very uncomfortable feeling, I decided to have 2 baths, and when my husband returned from work, I took the opportunity to leave the kids and replenish the empty milk and apple sections of my fridge. En route I took a detour to a beachside cafe. I had 30 whole minutes there, where I watched the rain, and wrote two poems. It was magic. Perhaps not the poetry, but the 30 minutes of rehabilitation was.
Lately I’ve been heavily involved in a series of books titled the “When I’m Feeling” collection, written by Trace Moroney. They cover each of our most dominant emotions, including fear, sadness, loneliness, happiness, kindness, jealousy, and love. This is a set of children’s books FYI, HA!, and while I try to teach my little ones about their feelings, I’m seriously learning about my own. Where the fuck were these books when I was little??? Hopefully my children will grow up with just a little less pain as a result.
Now before I throw myself into my giant comfy bed, let me hit you with a little amateur poetry. I’m already totally embarrassed 😀
It’s only in the rain that I feel safe enough to put away my smile. It’s a time to crawl into my soul and just be. The rain creates stillness and quiet, and allows me to acknowledge the lingering melancholy. And although it may sometimes be dark in this space, it is HERE where the real magic happens.
Goodnight folks x