Tears & Abundance
I’ve shed some major tears in the past 36 hours.
I don’t tell you this for pity or condolences (it’s actually quite hard for me to admit), but rather for the sake of authenticity. I know I’m not alone in feeling overwhelmed by life in our fast-paced world, parenting in a new paradigm, working towards economic self-reliance or adding a new little one to an already full, but tiny house. In a rational mind it makes perfect sense that I’m feeling in over my head, but I’m pregnant so let’s keep rational minds right out of this one.
Thinking about this blog has only added to the anxiety as I asked myself: How can I offer uplifting ideas when I feel quite the opposite. How can I ask someone else to find a wider perspective when I can’t? Who wants to hear me whine anyways?
I’ve heard that a lot of mom’s are feeling very frustrated with certain aspects of this bloggy-blog world. You want to be inspired, but seeing picture after picture of perfect homes and dinners and great ideas can all lead to a wacked out perspective. I certainly do not want to add to that and it was never my intention to write a one-dimensional blog. This is our journey and sometimes you get stuck in the mud or lost in the quagmire.
Last spring I told you about a new group I joined with the kids. They are all life-learning families and we gather at different state parks around the town once a week. It is a very diverse group of people and I find the conversations and ideas that come from the group to be some of the most intelligent and inspiring aspects of my community experience.
I haven’t been going for most of the winter because Stone takes over as the main caregiver and he wasn’t pulled to go and I’ve learned to let him parent his way. I went last week for the first time which felt nice, but I didn’t feel like going today. I went for the kids because I know they love playing with all the kids. I did it for our family because I know it’s important to keep community ties open and strong. I did it for me because I know I can’t do this alone.
Between the fresh air, warm sun and soothing waterfall I started to feel a little better. Friends began to ask me about how the business was doing and what my birth plans were. Talking about it all felt a little better.
It felt good to be related too.
A friend gave me two new birth books she had saved for me.
I felt touched that someone thought of me.
I had a heart-to-heart with another friend who asked the right questions and gave the right feedback.
It felt good to be heard.
She asked me if anyone was organizing a meal train for me after the baby was born and she told me she would love to do that for me.
It felt good to have someone take care of me.
A woman I had never met before brought four plastic shopping bags full of cloth diapers and covers and was excited to pass them on to me.
If felt good to have my needs taken care of effortlessly.
One of the crafty mama’s was making abundance bells and she made me one. It’s beautiful. She made it for me right there at the picnic table and told me “the rules”. She told me to use the bell to ask for abundance in my life: abundance of serenity when the kids where driving me crazy and abundance of happy times with my husband when the business is all we can seem to talk about. She asked that every night before bed I fall asleep to give thanks for the abundance bell and the abundance in my life.
As she told me all of this people sitting around me all chimed in with their own stories and affirmations.
It felt good to be inspired. It feels good to feel supported.
I drove home with happy, well-excercised children and I felt lighter. It had felt good to cry (and there still might be more tears) and I have a feeling that letting myself really feel those feelings opened myself up to receive the support, love and abundance gifted to me this afternoon.
I think I’ve been trying to do this all alone and that is a heavy weight on one person’s shoulders and it’s a weight that can break you.
I kept trying to feel abundant and grateful, but it didn’t work as long as I wasn’t honoring my true feelings–as long as I wasn’t making it okay to feel overwhelmed and scared.
And that brings me back to a parenting truth that I believe deep in my being: that our job is to honor our children’s feelings, not fix them. Who are we to be humans if not to experience the full range of emotions and sometimes those emotions aren’t happy. I think feeling them all the way through makes room for true happiness.
At least that’s how it feels right now as I sit and honor my tears and allow my abundance.
I was poking around looking for an old post and I found this one instead. It is a poignant reminder for me: it is not this child that is scary, but rather the arrival of this child that is unearthing my authentic feelings and shining light where I’ve been hiding. Aren’t children so good at that? They just keep asking me to grow. And so grow and learn I will.