Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Quick Check In

Thanks to those of you who have emailed or commented to ask how I am doing.

I am well, thank you. Much better than I deserve.

Life is just rolling by here and I have been thoroughly enjoying it. We're wrapping up a school year, starting Scud with drum lessons, signing up for swimming lessons, planning for family reunions and summer hikes and letterboxing. I have been attending births and start a new Birthing From Within class next week. We're preparing Mashuga for surgery -- he will have his tonsils and adenoids removed and have tubes put in his ears. I am very hopeful that this will make a big difference for him as far as being able to sleep, breathe and hear. None of these has been going so well for him for the last little while.

There is a great deal going on in our lives, mostly good. I am overwhelmed with joy and blessings. Life is good.

I have been busy, but not too busy to write, really. I have been lurking your blogs, but not commenting for the most part.

I'm just feeling quiet, contemplative. I am clearing an inner space for something new that is brewing. Asking myself over and over right now "What is my authentic voice? What do I really have to say to the world that is worth saying?"

I began this blog as a way to post about the craziness and wonderfulness at our house and in my life. It has been so much fun to reconnect with friends and family and give them a glimpse into our lives and get a glimpse of theirs. At times, I have used my blog as a device to become a better writer. The times that I most enjoy blogging, though, are when I use this space as more of a personal journal. A space to chronicle my constant work of becoming a better human being. When all three intersect, well, that's magic and the words just pour.

So, forgive me if I am a bit absent right now. I have some things brewing, but they're all inside, wordless. I've thought to write here so many times recently, but it always came out sounding like someone else, or feeling just terribly unimportant or boring to me. So, I've held off.

I'm sure that this simmer will come to a boil and I'll be back before too long with many, many things to say. Until then, I'll keep lurking you and commenting when I feel like I have something worthwhile to say.

Love to all. Hope you're looking forward to summer the way I am.

BTW, Rynell, you have me singing Porgy and Bess now, too.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Mashuga's Favorite Place To Be

Thanks to my wonderful SIL for the picture.

Joy and Sorrow by Kahlil Gibran

Then a woman said, 'Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.'

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, 'Joy is greater than sorrow,' and others say, 'Nay, sorrow is the greater.'

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Ten Whole Years

Ten years ago, just after midnight, my water broke. We drove by the light of a full moon to Gunnison, Utah from our little home in Ephraim. I was excited, strangely confident and ready despite the fact that I was 37 1/2 weeks pregnant and even in my wildest dreams did not expect to be giving birth so soon.

JDub was a bit of a wreck, but he stuck with me and helped me pack and get there.

I walked the halls of the hospital, plunging into a squat with each wave. We watched home improvement shows and Gilligan's Island. My parents and sister and brother took turns spending time with us in my room. Interestingly enough, my fourteen year old brother was my greatest comfort during the contractions. He was so tender and so present.

After 15 1/2 hours of labor, I decided I was ready for an epidural. I'd really had no intention of giving birth naturally, unless it just happened that way. And by this point, I was ready for a rest and some relief. It was just what I needed. Despite some complications and plummeting blood pressure that had to be resolved, I was grateful when it was in place. I took a nap and woke up to some pressure sensations.

I didn't tell anyone or even open my eyes, but gently, gradually began to push my sweet baby into the world. That quiet space was the space where I began to become a mother. Eyes closed, body filled with light, I held tightly to the tender secret that my child would soon be in my arms. I talked with her and with my Heavenly Father. I made promises and let go of old agreements and readied myself for the rest of my life.

There are no words for the sweetness of that time.

After 15 minutes or 30, I don't know, I felt it was time to let everyone else in and welcome their help with the birth. I pushed for 30 minutes and my tiny daughter was out of my body and on my chest and I would never be the same again.

I was a mother, forever, through and through. Nothing else I had been before would ever matter as much or hold as big a part of me as this new little being.

Now, I have very few words to tell the beauty and awe I feel.

This, my 4 lb 13 oz baby girl:

has become this, my too-lovely-for-expression daughter:

I thought I knew joy ten years ago. But, ten years of being a mother to such a lovely, bright, amazing daughter is more than I will ever deserve. She has written poetry in my heart and I will never be the same. I simply will never be able to capture her goodness, her heart in words. She is far too wonderful.

Thank you, my daughter, for choosing me.

Happy birthday to both of us.