Today I woke up lonely, unsure of this world, my life, this mom gig, the whole thing. Pulled it together to get to hills and nap the babe while hiking the most intense hike I’ve done since before I was pregnant. Needed a peak.
Not the hills nor the lil’ boo on my back could reassure me with words, tell me how great I am doing, how I’m beautiful or that I’m enough, how we are going to right the wrong, or that everything is going to work out. But somewhere along the path I found myself, listening again.
Though they do not speak in words, they are certainly speaking. In their glorious strength and vulnerability, in the power of knowing their place, in their bloom and their breaking, in their simply Being though every season.
It’s been a wild ride becoming a mama. I’m particularly feeling it on this day, supposedly celebrating some sort of glory while at the same time taking babies just like mine from new mamas just like me. Prayers for the change we wish to see, be illuminated in every spark of every firework.
Feeling humbled. Lucky. Privileged. Honest. Spiritually sober. Here.
Thank you to my, our, Great Mama Gaia, for reminding me of my place, and to be grateful for every day I’m given. Thank you for reminding me I am never alone.