This race called life

Sometimes it takes a whole year to realize how far you've come.

The last twelve months began like a sprint, then politely dropped into a cross country race.

Slow and unwavering.

Eyes on the path.

Steady pace.

Able to speak, yet completely out of breath.

Capable of continuation, however yearning to quit.

Heart pumping, chest thumping.

I don't know alot about running, but I gather there are three ways to get through a race.

The first is to isolate.

Run alone.

Listen only to the voices in your head.

Ego, its name.

Risking its accuracy and truth.

Forever being your own cheerleader.

The second is to compare.

The runner ahead is faster than me, so obviously better than I am.

The runner behind me can't keep up, they must be in really awful shape.

I am doing better than some, worse than others.

Rank-ordering pain and therefore outcomes.

The third is to belong.

I am a runner in this race called life.

So too, are these companions on the journey.

We are all struggling for breath.

We have our great races, and our really difficult ones.

But we all suffer and celebrate, together.

Sometimes we choose to isolate. Exhaustion and depression are often the result.

Sometimes we choose to compare. Fear and anxiety are often the result.

But when we choose to belong, we hit the sweet spot.

Whether it is my daughter's cancer.

Your husband's unusual illness.

Her mother's death.

His traumatic childhood.

If we belong, we are strong.

Our hearts fill with love and we say,

Me too.

I understand.
Your pain is my pain.

And the divine presence above us shines light on our souls and says, thank you.

This was your lesson to learn.

<3 <3 <3 

Mom friends, unite

Mom friends, I need to talk to you.

Thank you for being honest.

For posting photos of your worst parenting moments.
For crying out for help when you couldn't stand one more minute with your kids.
For laughing hysterically at my mishaps, and letting me do the same at yours.

Thank you for reserving judgement.

When I admit I've just pulled into the McDonalds drive thru with tears in my eyes.
When I couldn't go out for drinks because I didn't have $10 in my wallet to spend.
When I wore the same faded pair of yoga pants for the third day in a row.

Thank you for listening.

About my larger-than-life worries regarding fevers, ear infections and immunizations.
About my feelings of failure, disappointment and utter dismay at being a mom.
About the moments that made me cry deep, dark tears from my soul.

Thank you for being my cheerleader.

For sending virtual hugs that reassured me I was worth it.
For the messages of love when I was sick, run down and crawling out of bed.
For the acts of kindness that filled my heart with gratitude and love for our friendship.

The truth is, we're all in this together.
And its the hardest thing we've ever done.

We need each other more than ever.
And we need to stop comparing ourselves to each other.

The choices you make, may not work for me.
Your beliefs will not match all of mine.
How I choose to parent may not be comfortable for you.

And that's ok.

Let's make the conscious decision to support each other with love, kindness and genuine appreciation for our individual journeys. Can you imagine the example we can set for our children?

Mom friends, unite.