Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.
I’m in the midst of big change, divorcing from a very long marriage. It’s got me reflecting on where I’ve been, how I got here, who I am now, what this all means, and where to go from here. Circumstances and finances are challenging right now. So much of my life is in a forced stasis, while I wait for our judge to make life-altering decisions for me and my children.
As I process all these complicated feelings, my current internal dialog feels more dark and morbid than my naturally hopeful, humor-filled voice. It’s unfamiliar, but that’s okay; it’s a difficult time and I’m feeling it. I realize how important it is to work through memories and emotions; to allow myself to feel all there is here, so I can understand what I need now. But it’s equally important to remain grounded and grateful, in order to find my way back to myself.
So, right now, I am sitting in my grown son’s house, surrounded by the beating hearts of beings I love.
My youngest child and four grandchildren are jumping on the trampoline, squealing wildly (I’ve given up worrying about permanent spinal injuries).
This warm, sweet home is littered with evidence of children and playtime.
I have a small, snuggly dog on my lap; strong, sweet coffee in my cup; and a kick-ass heating pad on my belly.
Their kitties are lying in patches of sunshine, spent from hours of chasing string and feathered toys with the children.
The house is warm. The sunshine is streaming in. The air is crisp outside, so the children’s cheeks are apple-red and their hands are icicle-cold.
Earlier today, I received a deeply heartwarming, weep-worthy email from a student who is feeling excited over her personal journey facilitated by our yoga together. While online, I came upon this video and predictably cried (just a little).
In a little while, the littlest grandchild will come inside and we’ll watch a short movie together. I’m guessing the others will join us. I love film, and cuddling these babies while we watch a movie makes me happy.
I plan to draw a face on my chin and tell them stories.
I’ve made their favorite meal (food is love). We’ll chat and eat together; I’ll burn their tiny, present-day faces in my memory, and this day will heal my heart just a little bit more.
*opening photo: Wulfgang’s chinnychinchin