Serenity

On December 1st I celebrated the one year anniversary of living on my own again. This freedom to be me and to have a fighting chance at being a decent mother has been amazing. I couldn't be more content.

And then on December 2nd I woke up and felt... off? sideways? less than chipper? In actuality I sat on the edge of the bed and wept for a short while. There is no good reason, except, perhaps, I heard the whispers that for all the knowledge I'm gaining, progress I'm making, joy I'm experiencing, somethings are still going to hurt.

You see, in my efforts to adjust my boundaries, fall in love with honesty and myself, I feel a bit raw and over-exposed. It is uncomfortable in my skin today, as though I have been walking through a windstorm in the desert. This sand which is helping to shed my skin stings.

I don't mean to give the impression this experience is bad. The rawness makes my senses sharper. I can hear my name in the the rustling of the leaves outside my window.

And my exposed new skin asked for a little extra help today, so that rather than tears of frustration for everything I cannot change I could weep a bit for all the beauty in the experience.

And here is some of what I have received from caring souls:

A Recipe to Warm my Heart and Stomach: Pie Fries from MunchkinMunchies

A whisper to help me remember my Roar!
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, 'I'll try again tomorrow."

—Mary Anne Radmacher-Hershey


A reminder in my forgetfulness and a forgetfulness in my reminder:

in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why, remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so (forgetting seem)

in time of roses (who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if, remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me, remember me

e.e. cummings

A shout that I am beauty, wit, and inspiration in IIKE. ME!

And so now I'm still crying a bit, but I'm laughing, too.