When we live in the moment, we breathe

"Mommy! You keep asking me if I feel ok and you are scaring me!"
Cue the tears.

I didn't think much of my words. I didn't think I was panicked, in fact I was pretty sure he was having a slight skin reaction due to cross contamination of dairy.

I was upset though.
My mind was racing... how the heck? Again? What am I doing wrong?

But I didn't suspect anaphylaxis. I wasn't pulling out the EpiPen.

My words scared him.
I scared my sweet little anaphylaxis warrior into a tummy ache.
(which of course worried me even more, as this can be another sign of an allergic reaction).

Sometimes, I forget to be in the moment. Be all in, right now.

This morning I was three stages ahead thinking - what did he touch? How am I failing him? I need to watch for worsening symptoms...

I was living in the future.

If I was living in the present moment, mindful and aware, I would have noticed that I was scaring him. That I asked too many times if he was ok. That he was becoming afraid. That he wasn't showing any signs of it getting worse.

This is the difference that mindfulness makes.

When we live in the past, our kids become weighed down by our own grief, trauma and depression.
When we live in the future, our kids feel our fear, anxious thoughts and trepidation.
Hard to admit, I know.

When we live in the moment, we breathe.

We notice the space between stimulus and reaction.
Formulate a response.
Breathe again.
Notice again.
Act calmly.

Mindfulness is a practice, one I take very seriously. But as you can tell, I am only a student. This practice is a way of life that is always teaching me to turn back to present moment awareness.

Simply noticing the now.

This morning I failed and felt horrible for upsetting my sweet boy.
He was totally, 100% fine.

But trust me, I'll dust myself off and keep trying.
Mindfulness just works like that.

xo

The waves are back

I am feeling really tired right now.
Deep down in my soul tired.
Hurts to sit, tired.
Depleted.

This exhaustion is not new to me.
I've lived with these waves a long while.
They are here, again.

It's written all over my face.
Engrained into my bones.
Weighted my spirit.
It's not going away.

It could be memories.
It might be winter's cold.
Maybe even the disease of busy.
Or perhaps a combination?

It doesn't matter why it's here.
I know what I have to do.

Breathe.
Find gratitude.
Love my people.
Accept help and hugs.
Repeat.

This is life, after all.
And sometimes we can only wait.
Let the tears fall as they may,
then keep floating along.

A little about love

I've been thinking about love, lately.
The way it holds my life together.

Love for my kids.
Husband.
Parents.
Family.
Friends.

Love is permission to fall apart.
And know someone is there to hold me.

Love allows me to finish short of my word.
And know all will be forgiven.

Love is being held in a space which says; nothing has to happen right now.
Nothing is perfect and that's ok.
It's ok.
I'm ok.

That's love.

Love is when my heart races with worry.
Love is nagging doubt that I've made the right decision.
Love is hope, when there's nothing else to hold on to.

Love is a state of being where there is warmth.
It's a safe place.
An honest one.

Love permits disagreement, but always with respect.
Love allows anger, but quickly finds forgiveness.
Love is exhausting, for all the right reasons.

I've found, as I've aged, that when I centre on love, I simply cannot go wrong.

Sometimes it's a longer journey.
Sometimes it hurts so much more.
But love, as my reason, my wrapping, my motivation, never leads to regret.

I've lost friends, on account of loving them so much my honest words hurt their feelings.
I've hurt my heart, following hope and forgiveness to a place where I was trampled on.
I've literally lost hours of my life worrying from a place of deep love for others.

But I can say for sure, it was my authentic self.
It was true, honest to goodness love that led my actions.

And so, I'll continue to show up.
Sometimes exhausted, battered and bruised.
Sometimes afraid of speaking the truth.

Because I know this for certain.
I am my most authentic self when my thoughts, words and actions come from my heart centre.
And I do not intend to change this instinct. Ever.

Know this about me;
If you choose to hold space for me, I will for you.
I'm probably already quietly praying for you.

If you need me, I will be there.
In times of great joy, my heart celebrates with you.
And in times of trouble, my heart aches, walking with you.
Even if you don't see me there.
I am.

Love, as I see it, is the single greatest, most honest way to honour the divinity that created me.

And this year, now this new decade, I will no longer feel shameful for sharing it with everyone, every cause, every thing out there in this great big hurting world that needs it.

Love.
Only love today.
Only love every day.
This is my pledge.

xo

Protecting their roots

This year is really stretching my parenting muscles, as my oldest is now eleven. I find it hard to navigate his lived experience with him, as childhood has amplified, as far as I can see.

Children are growing up faster.
Exposed to infinite amounts of knowledge much earlier than I ever was.
Technology is glued to their every day.

Kids are still making mistakes,
but now it's captured on cell phones.
Posted to social media.
Repeated when they don't learn from their mistakes.

Friendships aren't enough to satisfy.
Children yearn for followers.
Online gaming communities.
The social thumbs up.

It's an incredibly fast-paced world for little brains.
More often than not, it's too fast for mine.

And I think to myself,
if cell phone and social media streams can suck the life out of me some days,
bait me with nonsense and trolls,
leave me feeling more worried and angry than before I scrolled,
why on earth would I allow my son to navigate it, now?

Why would I permit 24/7 access to a world of overwhelm?
I've come to feel very strongly otherwise.
It's not yet time to plug in.

He needs family dinners.
Snuggles on the couch.
Time to read, play lego and shoot hoops in the driveway.
Teamwork and leadership at hockey.
Freedom to navigate the library.
Hours spent in nature.

He does not yet need to plug in to a hurting world.

Sample it, sure...

Let's discuss politics.
Trauma.
Death.
Cancer.

Let's explore ethics.
Injustice.
Addiction.
Homelessness.
Sexuality.

Let's learn about mindfulness.
Love.
Peace.
Religion.
Friendship.
Family.

But I've come to believe that my children deserve time to grow.
Engage their own experiences.
Observe life.
Explore.
Before plugging in.

I believe that my children have the right to explore their personal boundaries.
Find their own passions.
Think critically.
Learn.
Before plugging in.

I believe that my children need time to relax without technology.
Play without structure.
Worry less.
Love.
Before plugging in.

I want my son, and all my children, to feel grounded in themselves.
Content to be exactly who they are.
Able to observe the motives of others.
Free to make peaceful choices.
Connected to nature.
Full of faith.

I want them to grow roots in life's natural experience. 

So for now, they won't be plugging in.
There will be no cell phones.
No social media.
Only moderated gaming, tablet use and internet search.

They'll sample it all, absolutely.
We'll discuss, explore and learn.
But they will not plug in.
Not yet.

For now, I'm protecting their roots.

Riding the wave

My anxious thoughts are at an all-year high, right now. I've been riding a wave of some pretty intense feelings.

Anger.
Disappointment.
Exhaustion.
Fear.
Worry.
Sadness.
Grief.

I've been feeling as though I need to make some significant changes in my life. I feel like I am circling this place where I try hard to 'do what's right', it drains me, I get overwhelmed and burn out, then I do it all over again.

My husband mentioned I've slipped away from my meditation practice.
A friend noticed I worry and check in more on my friends than many do on me.
My mom said to stop the chatter in my brain, as best I can.

Noted.


Yet I am still here, wondering about the root of it all.
Why am I feeling so unsettled?

I reach for gratitude.
I have so much to be thankful for.

I lean on love.
My husband and family are 100% holding me up.

I pray.
For patience, peace and so much more.

Yet still, I struggle.
So badly right now, I am struggling.

I love very deeply.
I think very deeply.
I hurt very deeply.

Right now I am so deeply unsettled.

Sometimes, I've noticed, there is no answer.
Only the wave.
Perhaps time.
A return to self-care
Or even some serious sleep to settle me down.

Just know that if you are feeling this way, I am too.
And our mental health matters.
So keep riding the wave.
I'll do the same.

Calm will come soon.
xo


 

The perfect summer of unbusy

This summer I've realized how often I was sitting on the sidelines of life.

Waiting for the perfect moment.

The perfect body.

The perfect amount of energy.

The perfect time.

I think sometimes I fell into a cycle of unworthiness in my own head.

Crazy how powerful our minds are.

I wasn't skinny enough.

Strong enough.

Fun enough.

Its not what moms say.

Or do.

Or what my friends say, or do.

Others are better at it than me.

Look better than me.

Should be doing those things, not me.

And this summer the cycle is slowly breaking wide open.

The amount of downtime our family has had so far is unprecedented.

We swim daily, sometimes two or three times in a day.

We have lazy mornings.

Time to read.

Less to do.

More time to just be, together.

It's helped me realize that perfect is now.

Right now.

That embracing life for exactly what it is now, is brilliant.

And gratitude overwhelms for all the right reasons.

Sometimes we are busy. 

But right now, not so much.

And the gift of unbusy is just as special, perhaps even more so, than the gift of busy.

I'm realizing that unbusy is not lazy.

Its absolutely not.

It's a gift.

The flow of life.

The calm before life's next storm.

It's perfect.

And I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and miss another opportunity to embrace it.

I'm going to be the only mom in the pool.

The mom who models a love of reading.

The mom who doesn't feel guilty when dinner is grilled cheese and apples.

The woman who throws down a brilliant cannonball because she has nearly 30 years of practice in the same pool.

The woman who thinks less about her every move, and lives more fully.

The women who is done worrying about how she looks in a dang bathing suit.

Seriously done worrying about it.

A woman who loves harder by doing.

Who embraces unbusy.

Who rides this summer wave with gratitude.

Because it won't be long until the heat is gone.

The mom taxi is back in action.

Work becomes overwhelming.

And a new wave, called busy, calls me to change my stance and find new reasons to be happy.

All over again <3

 

#gratitude #summertime #lifelessons #unbusy



Photo courtesy @becomingunbusy: https://www.facebook.com/BecomingUnbusy/



 

Bloom

I think it's time for me to share this with you;

You weren't meant for that journey.
As much as it hurts.
As much as you were left behind.
As much as you stand to the side, watching the game wondering why you weren't chosen to play.

You have been planted elsewhere.

Please know this;
Your trajectory is different.
Your destination, my goodness my dear, it's so far and beyond anything you ever dreamed possible.

So while right now,
today,
you feel forgotten about.

Bruised.
Unwanted.

The world has got your back.
I've got your back.
And we must trust, hand in hand, that life has bigger, better plans for you.

You will rise.

Shine.
Bloom.

 Exactly where you were planted.