Open Window

Wisdom...is sometimes asking the right question.

Yesterday straight up sucked.

I'm learning that after attending births, I am so emotionally drained that everything is right up on the surface. I have nothing left to shield myself with.

I'm not sure if I can come up with a word for the state it leaves me in. It's not a great place to be, and I don't understand it yet. I DO know that while it's hard, it isn't necessarily bad.

Then, two of the most wise and loving women I know gave me exactly what I needed, when I needed it most: questions and love. 

They asked me to answer questions. The kind of questions that form a path. That point you in the right direction. That give you something to work with and a starting point.

It turns out that sometimes when you think you need answers, what you really need is to ask yourself the right questions.

And today I found myself feeling like I'm facing in the right direction again.

Thank you Michelle and Jen. For asking me to look and see which way the sun is shining.

xo.

 

Empty

I want to have words. Usually I can put things into words. I can usually find something to say. I think there are things I want to say. But I can't even get it together enough to figure out how or what.

I am not creating enough. I know that.
I rarely take photographs at the moment. This one is from months ago. It just fit.
I miss my Soulsisters. My By-the-Sea girls.

And yet. This isn't sadness.
Life is functioning.
I enjoy the sweetness of my boys...and wince at their horribleness in equal measure.
Food gets made. Floors swept. Dishes done.
Sometimes we dance and laugh and sing.
Sometimes we run races.

And yet there is this emptiness.
Not overwhelming.
Quiet emptiness.
But it is pervasive.
It shows up in a lack of inspiration
In having nothing to show for my time.
In time spent with my children where I am not entirely present
Time spent with my husband where I'm not entirely present
Time spent alone that is allowed to pass with no mindfulness.

My soul is a little lost right now.
It's quiet here.
And a little lonely.

And I don't even have the words to figure out how to fix it.

I'm hoping it will just resolve.

The same way that the snow always melts just when you are so sick of it you could cry
The same way the green appears just when you never want to see the color brown ever again.