New Year Joys

Happy new year!

The last Full Moon and a brand New Year is looming, and Solstice, and the Holidays right behind me.  It's time to reflect a bit.

We had a pretty slow December, as far as meet-ups go, so we are ending with a bang -we had a full house of Mamas and Babes today, with three brand new babies, and ten kiddos running wild, ooh, what a treat.  I just love it!  I just love my circle of beautiful loving mamas and their precious super fun babes.

It's one thing I'd like to continue to build -a tribe and circle of women and mamas to grow, learn and expand with.

I am excited about the prospect of a whole brand new year ahead of me full of love and chances, growth and wisdom, sitting and running, peace and chaos.

I feel a shift in our world, full of love, and hope, where we're all thinking about what's best for us all, not just ourselves.  I believe that by taking care of our homes, we are taking care of the world.  Light your candle right here, and illuminate the whole world with love.

Last year it seems that the word of the year was discovery.  Discovery of myself, what I am capable of, and how to mother two boys, take care of everyone and myself at the same time.  I made it out alive and wits fairly intact.  Whew.

This year, 2013 it seems like the words that come to mind are trust and courage.

TRUST
...that things happen with time.
...that things are as they are meant to be.
...that I am enough.
...that they are enough.
...in myself.
...in others.
...in love.
...that I have strength and capability.
...that I can't push the river.
...that with or without a plan, it's okay.
...that my heart will guide my hands and actions.
...that what I need is right here.
...that the seasons will guide me.

COURAGE
...to be.
...to act when it's time.
...to leap.
...to fall, even without a parachute.
...to take chances.
...to learn new things.
...to step outside of the box, or at least lift up the lid.
...to get back up.
...to be still.
...to be vulnerable.
...to be who we need to be without worrying about what anyone else is doing.


I'm excited to receive my word(s) of the year necklace, hand stamped by the lovely Stacy De La Rosa of Bella Wish.

I have stepped into a circle at home with beautiful women and mothers.  I feel surrounded by love, support, and family.  I am supported by amazing women, who unconditionally love one another without judgement, who can listen, love and get it.  Women who only want the best for everyone, and themselves.

I am a part of the SouLodge community, with Pixie Campbell, and numerous other incredibly inspiring, loving women, where I can grow further as a woman, mother, artist, wild woman, and naturalist and walker of the medicine wheel.  You have four days to join me!  Come join us under the flap.

I am also in the midst of the Apothecary Circle with Laura Emily.  I am excited to learn more about holistic learning, herbs, and healing.  I will have the opportunity to become accredited in many different areas.  I'll follow my heart and see where this leads me.  Please come in, you have until the end of the year to join us.

I'm excited to also release a bit of my grip and let Z explore some more, without Mama.  I am always by his side, and of course I always will be here, but he's ready to step into a few more things, and explore himself without me always watching.  It's not easy for me, but I sense that he needs to do more away from home, and still stay at home with me.  I'm working on it.

I'm ready to jump in.

I feel the pull of the new year, and the release of the last one, and it feels good.

How about you?

Do you have a special word for 2012 and 2013?

Do you have any special plans for the next year?  I'd love to hear it.

Love, peace and light to you.

xoxo

Love = Attention

Mama and Z riding the ferris wheel together at the Christmas Fair

In the last several months, and especially the last several weeks, Z has said "I love you" with increasing frequency.  So much that the last few days I really paused to reflect on it.

The other afternoon, I noticed that he does it especially when he knows that he has my full attention.  He feels my presence, and we are doing things together, not just side by side.

It's also his way of expressing gratitude.  He's saying, "Hey, I'm glad for this, right here.  I love you.  Thank you for being here."

He says it when I am listening to him, taking into account his point of view, and not forcing feelings or my point of view on him.

It comes out when I respect him, and his space, and allowing him to make his own choices, and learn through mistakes and trial and error.

He utters it when he knows that I see him as his own person.  Not just a son, a brother, but Z.

He says it out of the blue.  Out of pure love.

This shows that love really is attention.

I love this boy more than the universe.  He has my heart in his hands.

Four -The Birth Story

Next Sunday I will be the mama of a four year old.

What an amazing journey this boy and I have had for four revolutions around the sun.

It's a time where I reflect deeply on how much has changed and how much change there is to come for that beautiful boy, and myself.

Last night he asked me to tell him the story of his birth.

This has made me quite uncomfortable in the past, because my the births of both of my boys surrounds me with both love and darkness.  They were both caesarean sections.  I induced with Z, at almost two weeks past due, out of fear, and not having as big of a support system that I do now.  I didn't know then what I know now.

So instead of let this be something to tie my stomach in knots and place a lump in my throat I dove in head first, lighter than ever.

"Well, you stayed in my womb for a long time!  You must have been pretty comfy because you didn't want to come out!  (He laughs, that big belly laugh of a four year old)  So I asked the doctor about you and he said maybe we should try and get that boy to come out!  (He laughs more)  So they gave me some special medicine one night, and you sure must have thought it was more comfortable in there, because at first you just stayed put.  Then you wiggled, and twisted, and pushed, trying to come out, and my body tried hard to help you come out, and the doctor tried hard to help you come out.  But you were just too comfy I guess!  So the doctor said, "Mama, are you ready to hold your boy?" and I told that doctor, "YES, I am ready to hug my boy."  So he had to give me a little cut on my belly here (I show him my scar), and helped pull you out into the world.  We were so happy to see you we just cried, and cried, and everybody was there to meet you -Grandma, Grandpa, your uncles, and aunts, and cousins, friends, everybody!  You are the most beautiful special thing that ever happened to me, and I love you with my whole heart.  Then Daddy helped weigh you and measure you, and they brought you back to me and you nursed and nursed and nursed, and I never wanted to put you down.  Everyone asked me, "Mama, are you ever going to put that boy down?" and I'd answer, "Nope.  I love him.  And our hearts belong together."  And that's how our story began."

It was the first time I had ever told him our story without tears of sadness, guilt, or shame.  There's obviously a lot more to it.  I had a horrible, gut wrenching, scary induction, and caesarean.  But that's not important anymore.  I don't need to re-live the trauma.  I've done that too many times to count.  He doesn't need to hear that, especially at four years old.

There sure can be a lot of those emotions around non-natural births, and as one beautiful soul said, the "dogma around natural birth".  I am blessed because here at home, and through Momma Zen, in the Autumn SouLodge, I have met a group of beautiful supportive, unconditionally loving, amazing, mamas and women that know how to make a sister feel loved and whole.  I have finally, in the last year, sought out more and more support from friends, mamas, and communities of Soul Sisters.  I have told my husband how I feel, really feel, and he is beginning to get it.

I have met so many beautiful mamas with opposite experiences from mine, and some of the guilt, shame and sadness crept in, some told and some untold.  I've also met a lot of mamas, in real life, and some online in groups, that made me feel that their way of giving birth was superior.  But really, it's not.  We mamas have to stick together and be there for one another, support one another, and share stories, and experiences, no matter what they are.

Then I finally built myself up to it, and watched The Business of Being Born about a month ago.  Something shifted, and I cried and cried and sobbed like I can't remember.  I thought, "Why didn't I see this five years ago?"  But then it hit me over and over, and I realized, that I can't change my past, I don't need to change, or make my story better or worse than it is, it is my story, in my voice.  I didn't write it all, it wrote itself in a way, and that's fine.

I have put a lot of thought into it all.  I feel like I am in the final throws of letting go of the negativity.  I am sick of judging my story as bad.

My boy is about to be four.  That's a lot of time to carry around such unnecessary harmful judgements that serve nothing and no one.  I will deal with the feelings as they arise.

If you met us you would have no idea that I had such emotion surrounding our birth story.  Truth be told, the moment I held him, my world shifted in a way that is nearly unexplainable.  I fell so deeply in love, like never before, and none of it mattered until some moments where I sat alone and over-thought the tragedy around inductions and caesarean sections, and not having the birth I had dearly wanted.  We are deeply close and attached to one another, in such a special bond, and isn't that all that matters?

My boys are happy and healthy, and so am I.  This story can make me stronger, not weaker, I just have to let go of some of my ideas.  Not feed the negativity, but not ignore it, and in time it weakens and subsides.

Something has also been shifting in me in the last months.  Between Bodhi's first birthday in July and Z's fourth birthday, which is a month before mine, I feel that I am coming to see things for what they are, more than what I make them to be.  I am paying attention to my heart and intuition more than ever, and more than that, being okay with it and trusting it.  I am learning to follow that which matters, and let things that no longer help or serve me fall away.  Layers are shedding, shadows are being explored, with less judgement, and I am opening up further.  I am holding fear's hand, treating it tenderly with love, instead of letting it lead and break me down.  And it feels good to have a community and a practice, which supports not only the light but the dark.

It feels beautiful to be a woman and a mother.  More now than ever before.

I have also realized that I don't have to feel guilty about staying at home.  Like I need to be doing something more. -these unfortunate feelings creep in from time to time.  I'm learning to tell it like it is.

I am thinking about how things happen in time, in my own pace, and how I can't push the river.  I am not behind on  my path.  I am on my path.  I don't have a lot of time for my own work and creative journey, but little by little I am exploring it more.  An hour here, 15 minutes there.  Sometimes I just have to ask for space, and not feel guilty!

The wheels are cranking in my own creative work, thanks to my Creative Courage course, Ordinary Writing Prompts, and of course SouLodge, among other amazing people in my life that are following their hearts and living their dreams.  I am blessed to be right here, right now, at this time in my life.

I took these courses, and tasks on, to remind myself that it's okay to think about what I want to do in life, even if I don't have time to focus on anything for myself too hard or long right now.  I am learning some new tools on how to ask the right questions, and explore things deeper.  I am learning how to make the most of my space and time, and not just spin my wheels, and procrastinate, some days doing what I feel is a waste of my time -worrying and thinking without action.  It's also when I know that I need to sit on the cushion more!  Sometimes I need a little structure to guide my tired mama brain, without making me feel overwhelmed.

I also just read these beautiful words and feel that they are perfectly fitting.  Thank you, Stacy at Clover and Sage.  Yesyesyes!:

Vision (soil prep|seed planting) 
+ Action (cultivating|nurturing|weed pulling)
+ Trust (Harvest|Gathering|Bounty) 
= Living your vision (restoration|nourishing|reflection)

So this was a lot, a lot to set free, out of my mind, and into space.  Kind of a double birth story.  The one of my sweet boy, and the one of a mama coming into herself.

I am eternally grateful for my path.  As long and hard as it is.  Because it has made one strong mama with a ton of love in her heart.

I am grateful for my support, and my two little teachers.

xoxo

Perfect Fit

It's amazing how mamas and babes' bodies are built to fit one another.

No matter how I carry Bodhi, he fits perfectly in my arms or on my chest.  They are meant to be close to us.

During the day, when Bodhi calls for milk by tapping or biting at my chest, I scoop him up and his little head nests in my arm as our bellies connect.  The bigger he gets, the longer his legs extend, but our bellies, heart, and breath are always connected.  

He gazes up at me, and around the room, as I push the hair out of his eyes and we reach for each others hands.  His tiny fingers touch mine, sometimes seeking a pinch of the boob or a grab of my mouth.  Then he smiles, and his eyes light up and we laugh.

Every night when I snuggle up to Bodhi to nurse him to sleep, I am amazed at how his little head fits perfectly under my arm, like a mama bird tucking her babe under her wing.

His warm little belly presses up against mine.  Our breath rising and falling, intertwined peacefully.  One heart, in two bodies, beating next to one another.

That extra fat below my belly seems to be there for a purpose -to give him a cushion, which his knees push inward, wrapping around my tuft of belly perfectly.

I rise out of bed when I hear his breath slow and his grip loosen or let go.

When I turn in for the night, I lay down and he automatically reaches for the boob, where we fall asleep together.  Connected and comfortable.

It's up to him how long this ritual lasts, but every time is as special as the next.

It's pure love and comfort.  A perfect fit.

Mama and her little nestling.

Love is Love

Love is there, even if you wonder if it is.

Love is love.

Love is unconditional.

Love cannot be lost.

Love cannot be diluted.

Love isn't more or less.

Love is endless, and full and never absent.

In the words of Operation Ivy, "The position being taken, is not to be mistaken, for attempted education, or righteous accusation, (it's) only a description, just an observation."

I think that Z is finally beginning to understand in his three year old brain that my love for him is unconditional and unchanged since the birth of his brother.  I can love him and his brother at the same time, no matter what.

This isn't something I can tell him, although of course I do.  He had to see it.  

He's seen it over and over and over in what I do for him, out of nothing but love.

I love my boys.  They are my heart.  

Sometimes he sees me swoon over his brother.  I used to be afraid for him to see it, that he may think I loved him less in that moment.  I never hid it, I just always thought, "What is he thinking right now?"  What silly thoughts.  

He has to see me love endlessly and unconditionally, everyone that I can.  Sometimes I think it's hard to see me cuddle, adore and love another being with my whole heart, but it's the same love I give to him. If he has to come hurdling into the hug to feel it, then fine, I will not push him away.  Push your way into my circle of love as many times as you have to and finally understand that you are always welcome, although your brother may tug those lovely locks.

These boys have night and day personalities.  And that's fine.  It doesn't mean that I love either of them differently.  I just love them.  That's just how love works.  

He has seen me lose it, he has seen me cry, he has seen me angry, especially when another person gets hurt (including him), but I always return to love him no matter what.  You see, because my heart may fracture, but it is ever whole and shining with love.

Unconditional, forever love.

Happy 1st Birthday

Happy 1st birthday, sweet Bodhi.

Thanks for the swing, Grandma!

First steps on his birthday!

Birthday present. 

Good morning, sweet birthday boy!

Oh, Mama!

Playtime!

Where's brother?

My butter eatin' chocolate cake bakin' helper.

Spaghetti time!

He clearly does not have his brother and Daddy's sweet tooth.
He hardly touched it.  Made me laugh.

Goodnight, sleep tight. 

Fracture

Each fracture of my heart
only exposes more love,
brightening the deep recesses
beyond view.

Like a leaf, fallen to the ground,
fertile compost,
absorbing the dark,
only to spring forth a flower in Spring.

Letting my light shine outward,
a beacon,
attracting love,
softening anger.

It never dims,
only brightens.

Even when it appears to be dying,
it is reborn anew.

Energy springing forth more energy,
like curing like,
love curing love.

My heart,
always broken,
always open.

It's Always Darkest Before Dawn

It's always darkest before dawn.

I don't remember what quite set it off, but I've a had a disheartening and hard month or more.  I dug a hole, fell into it, and had a hard time climbing out.  I know that when this happens, it's up to me to figure the way out myself.  My meditation practice and my children help me to see what's really important, but sometimes it's hard to act when you feel a bit paralyzed.

It's the culmination of many events that transpired with family after my Grandmother passed last January.  There seemed to be too many unresolved issues that I couldn't let go of.  I believe in moving forward not living for yesterday, but sometimes that's hard to do, especially when others choose not to.

When the big stuff goes unresolved, the little stuff starts to effect me, and can bring some more big stuff with it.  Then the domino effect begins and it rolls down to my children, family, those I love, and everyone around me.  Like a friend says, "When Mama ain't happy, no ones happy."  It's not a selfish statement, it's because every Mama is one of the most important parts of a child's life.  It's our job to be strong, or know when we're weak, and pick ourselves up, and ask for help if we need it.

Someone that I love has had a very hard time moving forward and something very unfortunate happened to him.  I chose to help instead of throw my hands up.  It was a hard decision, because it wasn't just a little help.  That choice made someone even closer to me say some very cruel things because they weren't happy with their life and their choices.  Many things said were untrue and borderline insane so I tried to let it go.  I couldn't.  It's hard to let things go when others are hurting and they try to hurt you.  Bitter resentment will eat you up if you let it.  I have learned to live with and understand many of my resentments, so when I see others stewing in despair, it hurts.

I chose to take a stand and do what was right.  My relationships are my business.  If someone doesn't like them then that is their problem not mine.  I don't have to discuss anything you don't want to hear and you don't have to ask.  Seems simple to me, but we are human.  One thing that I know is that you can't tell anyone what to do, they have to decide for themselves.

Then, last week, my littlest one came down with a virus and we had four sad question-filled days with fever.  It was like a mediation retreat, doing nothing but loving and cuddling my tiny boy, sending him love and trying to send myself some kind and gentle love.  Thank goodness Grandma was off to play with Z, while I nursed Bodhi for days.

Everything hit me.  I was deeply questioning every choice I made.  Was I really being a good mother?  Good wife?  Good daughter?  Good friend?  Kind?  Gentle?  Loving?  Forgiving?  What have I done wrong?  Am I doing anything right?  How come everyone else seems to have their shit together?  Everyone does so many different things.  Some people can take care of their family and find time to do what they love, and sometimes make a living doing it.  Do I need to find my niche in life besides being a mother right now?

That last one hit me harder than I expected.  It had been in the back of my mind for a few months now.

Right before all the questioning, I had began reading some things that helped me in my journey.  Things that were deep in my heart but had to be pulled to the surface, and put right in front of my face.  

There was this.  It helped me take a step back and see things from a distance.  It gave me the perspective of time and space.  It was a little lightbulb above my head.  "Step back."  Look at it from the other's perspective, from the whole room's perspective, from my city, from my state, all the way to the end of the universe.  What was going on was not grand on the whole scale of sadness.  It was, in the words of Lemony Snicket, a series of unfortunate events.  It allowed me to see things in real time.  Was most of the stuff that was bothering me going to matter in five minutes?  An hour?  Next week?  Next year?  Ten years?  No?  What the hell am I grasping this hot cole for?  Feel that tension, don't speak, don't act, move forward gently, as gently as possible.  Send out love, not hate.  Don't be a part of the problem, be a part of the solution.

Then I read this.  There's always more rope at the end.  There's always a new day.  There's always a beginning.  Seemingly infinite times a day we can choose to begin again.  I even started taking Z back to bed and symbolically saying, "Let's start over.  Let's begin again.  I'm sorry."  When we both acted out.  It worked.  Then a whole new day came and it was my clear slate.

This really helped to solidify it.  Wow.  Most of the stuff won't matter in 5 minutes, definitely not in a hundred years.  It's a blink in the universe, and most won't matter, but love will.  I don't have to act on every frustration or problem that comes my way.  Most stuff resolves itself if I wait patiently.  As a bonus, there's always a new day or moment when I screw up, or choose to see the shadows instead of the sunshine.

The sun is always there.  It will always rise.

How I choose to live this moment matters, it can effect generations to come.  So love love love.  Then love some more.  Forgive yourself.  Forgive others.  "Be here now."

I was feeling good.  It was all coming to a head.  I removed myself from feeling responsible for other's pain and took responsibility for my own.  I will always be here to love when they are ready.  I will always be open and forgiving.  And believe me, you don't know the half, a fraction of what I've forgiven.  It's not that it doesn't hurt, but all I can do is be me, and be ready and accepting.

Then I woke up one day and saw this, thanks to her.:

It was as if the sun within me was beginning to shine again.  The clouds were lifting.  

I suddenly didn't feel so lost.  I suddenly felt OK with my place and my relationships.  More OK than I had in a long long time.  I am doing what I am supposed to be doing.  I know when it's time for something new.  I always know when I pay attention.  I can't push the river.  

A new day has dawned.  

No one but me could work through it.  I asked for help when I needed it.  Some came directly, some from afar, and some I just found out of the great big blue.

But it came.  

Just in time.

And now I can breathe a little easier.

Thank you, to those that loved and helped.  Even if it was just existing in my presence -that's pretty important in my book.

**********************************

I read these very powerful words just after writing this:

The warrior is never caught in the trap of doubt. The fundamental doubt is doubting yourself. This doubt can manifest as anxiety, jealousy, or arrogance. In its extreme form, you slander others because you doubt your own confidence. The warrior of perky, symbolized by the snow lion, rests in a state of trust that is based on modesty and mindfulness. Confident within him- or herself, therefore, this warrior has no doubt. He or she is always aware and is never confused about what to accept or reject.

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, The Sacred Path of the Warrior

(This is book I read and re-read over and over, and highly recommend it.)

Magnitude

Not a day passes that sorrow doesn't seep deep into my bones.

Stories from those that I love, near and far, known and unknown, or the news can break a heart and tenderize it at the same time.  It's those cracks that allow the love to flow.

It broke my heart when Z got hurt, my mind is still unsettled from that.

My dog-niece was buried next to Paco this weekend.  The mother of his children.

A close friend's father passed away from a freak accident.

The news in Austin alone continues to astound me with it's growing violence and sadness.

That's just the tip of the iceberg.

It makes me wonder what kind of world I brought children into.  It makes me cry when I think of the pain that they will endure in their lifetime.  I imagine that parents have pondered this for millennia.

Above all, it makes me realize the magnitude of the job of a parent and what examples I set.

Truth be told, they let me know every day what I should and shouldn't be doing.

It's up to me to show my children love, compassion and respect, so that they may give the same to others.

It's up to me to be kind and gentle, so that everyone receives the same touch from them.

It's up to me to forgive, so that the trespasses and pains others bring may be forgiven.  And so that they can forgive themselves.  We all make mistakes and do things we regret.

It's up to me to be patient, so that they can tolerate everyone and not get so frustrated.

It's up to me to be fearless, so that they may go beyond their fears and learn what they are capable of.

It's up to me to be generous, so that they learn to give and never expect in return.

It's up to me to give them all that I have, love, time and resources, so that they may experience the world in ways that Daddy and I did or didn't.

It's up to me to listen to them, so that they listen to others.

But when it comes down to it, children already encompass all these traits from birth.  Sometimes they forget them, begin to test them, or see alternate examples, but they lie in the heart of each and everyone of us.

It's up to me to remind them that they can remain well into adulthood.

I am so grateful that they have taught and reminded me of so many things, which in turn reminds me that I too teach them.

More Love

When I was pregnant with Bodhi I was worried.  

How could I love another child as much as I love Z?  He was my whole world pre-Bodhi.

Not that I wouldn't love and adore Bodhi, but the same, as much?  How would it work?

I felt embarrassed just thinking about it.  It sounds so silly now even saying it out loud.  

I remember talking with my beautiful ninety-year-old Great Aunt Inez about it.  She laughed and smiled.  I will never forget her reaction.  Her reply was, "Honey, it's just that much more love."  She looked at me like, "you'll see, honey, you'll see.".

You know what?  She was right.  Oh so very right.  

I adore each of my very different boys with all my heart.  There is no such thing as favorites.  As I tell them, I love you more than the universe times infinity.

Having one child taught me the true meaning of unconditional love.

Having two teaches me to share and spread that love further.  

It also taught me, more than anything ever before, that everyone deserves unconditional love.  

We are all someone's child.  

Sometimes when I get angry at someone, or think someone is being stupid or are just plain pissed off at them, I remind myself that they are so loved by someone, and why can't that someone also be me. 

That is the beauty of unconditional love.

We all deserve it.

We are all one.

Colossal Faith

"I look at my son's open and shining face.

In his mind there are no old jobs,

old hurts or old grudges.

No gossip or fretting.

Not the debris of dashed hopes or unrealized plans.

Nothing hounding him.

Nothing to prove.

No list on the refrigerator.

There is just immediacy, honesty and perfection.

Somehow he trusts that everything he needs will be provided here and now.

If I could muster just a tiny bit of his colossal faith that everything is, and will be, okay, 

I could live differently."

Karen Maezen Miller,

Momma Zen

This quote can stop me in my tracks and slow me down.  I love these words.  

*I changed her to him, but the essence remains the same.  

This Moment

Mama's birthday cake
Two special moments because it's a birthday week!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  Inspired by SouleMama.

If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Heavy Hearts

Today, we have heavy hearts around here.  There's nothing to hide but it's all delicate news to bear.  Explaining some things to tiny people without freaking them out takes practice.

One thing I do know is that since becoming a mother and starting Zen practice I have noticed much more in the world and there have been more feelings than ever before in my life.  My tender heart has opened a little more each day and experience.  It has also been the beginning of strength like I never knew I had.  Even when things happen all at once all I can do is be there with each one as it is happening and do my best not to see it as a problem but tending to life.  I try to take it one at a time but sometimes it seems to magnify every single thing around me.

I found out that someone I love dearly fractured her vertebrae.  She was giving Z a piggy back ride then fell.  While it's not very serious it will take some uncomfortable recovery time and sets her back to zero in a lot of ways.  It breaks my heart and there's not enough I can do.

Then yesterday, Z's doctor's office called regarding the swab they took from what I thought was a bug bite.  It's a "rare unidentified gram branching bacteria" and they sent it off to the Texas Department of Health to identify.  The nurse did her best to reassure me "not to worry too much if he's getting better and the antibiotics are working" or it could be a contaminated sample.  However, it's not any news any Mama wants to hear.  It is getting better and he's acting completely normal but the words "rare and unidentified" coming from a doctor's office just don't sit well with me.  I will wait and watch.  I am also grateful he has a three year old well check scheduled today so we'll see what the doc thinks.

All the while we've been thinking about our sick fourteen-year old, Paco's bone cancer.  He is our chihuahua companion and best tiny buddy.  We love the fearless goofy little tail wagger that has been on numerous adventures with us over the years.  Zach got him as a tiny puppy before we met.  He's had a life that has been more fun than some people I know.  But now, he is not doing well and getting worse.  It all started around Bodhi's birth but we gave it time before jumping to conclusions and rushing to a vet.  We all know his time is waning and we've done what we can to keep him comfortable and happy.  It doesn't seem right or fair to have to make the sort of decision we have but we did.  Tomorrow we will lay him to rest in our backyard and bury him on our property.

OK, now I'm really crying.  

It hurts and scares me.  All of it.  All at once.  But all I can do is breathe and see what each moment and tomorrow brings.  I am trying not to jump to conclusions and be on edge.  My children surround me and watch my reaction to everything.  They mimic my feelings and their little instincts pick up even the most faint emotions.  I will not hide my feelings, I will explain them.  But I must be strong at the same time.  I am grateful for my practice -both Zen and motherhood.  Life isn't fair or easy.  It requires love and fearlessness to get us through each day.  And today I need a lot of it.

Paco many years ago

Paco and Z as a baby

Bodhi and Paco a month ago

Mama and her tiny Paco Roboto 

Intentions

It's the time of year when family birthdays and holidays are abound.  It's a new year and time when I reflect on how I have changed and lived.  I often read my journals and think about what is important to us all.

This year I was inspired by a friend, Robin and this book to write my intentions.  Many lovely and true words of Maezen are also reflected and included in my list.

This is a gift to my family and self.  It is something to remind me of what works for me and what I need to work on.  It will sit in my kitchen windowsill altar where I will read it every day.

Intentions:

Gratitude for our children, family and friends.  They are perfect as is and are wonderful teachers.

Tend to the garden that is our family and my life.

Pay attention to what is in front of me.  Don't worry as much about what's not.

Take care of what is being asked of me in the moment.

Don't make things work or see things as work.

I have all the time in the world.  

Stop, pause, breathe and savor the moment.  

Be kind, gentle, tolerant and patient.

Recognize beauty, joy and love as well as frustration, anger and destructive emotions.  Maybe just be with them instead of act.

Be consistent but flexible.

Forgive myself and others.

Appreciate my life.  Every moment is my teacher.

Sit when I can but know each moment is practice.
Let's just see how it goes.

One Year Since

"Here is the world.  

Beautiful and terrible things will happen.  

Don't be afraid."

Frederick Buechner

It's hard to believe it's been one year since my Grandmother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  Five years after she had conquered it.  Around that same time I found myself pregnant with Bodhi.  Needless to say, it's been a rough and beautiful year in many ways.  But if there is one thing my Grandmother taught me, it was not to be afraid.

Fear is not something that should make you cower.  It's there to show you when you're at a crossroads and have to go beyond it.  Further than you think you can.  Fully experience it.  Even when you think you can't.  It makes you tender, not hard.  That kind of strength is within us all.

She showed me even when I didn't think I was paying attention.

That was the kind of strength I needed to care for her and support her in the decisions she made, and make some decisions I never knew I would have to.  Of course there were moments when I would dwell in fear and cry and cry but shutting down was not an option.  I was taking care of her, my two-year old, unborn child, myself and our home.  I was needed like never before in my life.

She knew I was pregnant and that was something beautiful to talk about.  In fact, there's always something beautiful to talk about, even the sad stuff.  We were close, we talked and I saw her often but the last weeks were different.  We didn't pretend it wasn't happening, but we didn't make it the center of every conversation.  We held onto hope.  The kind of hope that only endless love knows.

I made time to feel it and be in the experience with her.   We sat and talked like we never had before.  I am eternally grateful she opened up like I never saw in my life.  Many hours we just held hands or I watched her sleep.  We would look at pictures and tell stories.  She'd skip lunch but eat the cake.  She would watch Z play, just absorbing his joy and beauty.  Tears of joy and tears of sadness were shed.

She shared things with me I never expected, but am glad she did.  It made me sad when she told me she always wanted to go back to Hawaii and never had.  But it made me happy when she talked about the most beautiful vacation she had ever been on there with my Grandfather.

She was strong, held onto all dignity and never complained even a little.  Not once.  I don't know how she did it.  But she taught me something while she did it.

January 26th, The last afternoon I saw her we were alone, and she was half in and half out of this world.  Her room was filled with pictures and objects that were dear to her.  There were three pictures at the foot of her bed.  One was her and my Grandfather smiling (her about my age) and her parents.  She looked at me more peacefully than she had in the month since she had found out the chemo wasn't working.  She said with a half smile pointing at the pictures, "They're with me everywhere I go."  It was the first time I felt like she had found peace.

One month to the date that the doctor said she "probably has a month to live" I received a knock on my front door about five in the morning.  It was my dad telling me she was gone and we could go say goodbye.  I immediately felt the loss in the depth of my being but I also felt her with me.  I quietly slipped out of the house and held her hand one last time.

She's still with us to this day, just not in the way she always was.

Having the grandmothers I had, and now being a mother, makes me a stronger woman that I ever knew I was.  I am always opening up to unknown parts of me.  Especially when I'm not trying to.  Life's lessons are deep in the marrow of our being.  When we need them, they're there to provide strength.  It's funny when I recognize something that they taught me or catch myself doing something that they taught me when I didn't know I was absorbing a thing.  It makes me quietly smile knowing they're with me.

When I peer quietly into my children's eyes I feel the love of the whole universe, the one that my Grandmothers are still a part of.  It's something I never experienced until I had children and even more since I lost my Grandmother.

It also makes me realize that every action I make is being watched carefully and every thing I do is teaching my children.  They are little sponges and mirrors.  I can teach them strength or I can teach them weakness.  It's up to me to pause when I'm at the crossroads and choose a direction.  I can also recognize when I make a mistake and not be afraid to backtrack and choose the other way.

I am grateful for my grandmothers' strength, my children and Zen practice.  They help me be and accept the woman that I am and things they way they are.  Mistakes and all.

**The picture above is "GG" (as Z called Grandmother), me and Z on her 80th birthday at our house.  February 14, 2009.**

Born to Love

We're born to love!

Bodhi has the birthmark to prove it.

I love this tiny foot with the little heart.

One More Time, I'm a New Mama

Life with a newborn and a two-year old toddler is full of...

Love and joy.

Awe, surprise and adoration.

Starting over again.

Nothing the same.

Equally awesome but completely opposite boys.

More confidence this round mixed with some healthy confusion.

Helpful and loving family and friends.

Tiredness and fatigue.

Running on love.

Tears.

Realizing more every day it's we, not me.

Learning about ourselves and our newly expanded family.

Eating together at a table most meals...

Yes, even if the baby has a boob in the mouth and Mama waits.

Sometimes cereal for dinner.

Messyness and taking time to pick up little by little.

Lots of lists to get crap out of Mama's head.

Surprises and constant change from moment to moment.

What the hell was that noise?

Is this normal?

"Z!?!?"

"What was that?!?!?"

"Hang on, I hear Bodhi..."

Re-defining the word "important".

Letting go and leaning in.

And loving every tired moment that awakens us all a little more.

Did I say, LOVE LOVE LOVE.

And more LOVE.