Photo by Freddy Castro
It was hard to think about starting a journal. Maybe it's the fear of failing or the fear of commitment. But mostly, I think it was the fear of slowing down, pausing and listening to the true state of my neglected self.
I can't count how many times over the last year I heard a small voice inside of me asking to put down my phone, read, go outside, run, pray, write, sit in silence curled up with a warm cup of tea. And each time, though tempted, I continued to scroll and admire someone else's perfectly framed latte art perched on a reclaimed wood table next to an open, dogeared page of a profoundly soul stirring book. "I want that," sigh… Double tap, scroll.
Today, I cried. I tried not to as my sweet boy stared back at me and giggled. I giggled too as the tears kept coming stuck somewhere between utter sadness, a feeling of failure, and deep soul quenching love for this perfect being giggling at mama's tears. I guess he didn't feel like I failed by replacing me with Minions. I continued to cry anyway as I felt the tiredness in my spirit.
I took a long shower tonight. I lamented how I should have done more… Gotten more accomplished in my time off… Enjoyed the time with my son more instead of trying to figure out how to do everything with a toddler pulling at my leg.
But as the warm steam eased my anxieties, I was reminded of Soren sitting on my lap as we played chopsticks on the piano together. I remembered the delight we shared as he brought me a pot of pretend soup and we devoured it together. Or the chalk art in the courtyard to welcome home Papa after a day in the office. Or when he just snuggled up and laid with me silently for a record time of 10 whole minutes. Or how he now closes his eyes as we hold hands to say grace before meals… And in those thoughts, I found deep gratitude.
My hope is that picking up the pen again will force me to slow down. To not fear just sitting and acknowledging all the little stirrings of my heart. To recognize my failures without giving in to the lie that I am a failure. To be more grateful for the smallest things. And to be more present not just in life… But maybe most importantly, with myself.
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