I try to get my mind off of Hadj's four hour and counting 12.5 mile epic standstill on state route three coming home. Ridiculous doesn't even cover it. There's maybe four inches of snow. All I can tell him, when he asks via text if I can get a scoop on the traffic ahead, is "give thanks you're not on the East side of the Sound where a web search shows up like this...
I don't even want to know what the difference between a red "!" and an orange one is. He texts me now to tell me he's finally gotten a chance to pee and that there's a jack-knifed truck ahead. "May be a few more hours." I shake my head and feel for him. Maybe, I wonder, I should try to feel hopeful and encouraging, or specifically timely and safely driven instead of terrible.
But last night I had unseasonably warm dreams.
I dreamt of old friends and then half-waking-dreamt of drawing a field of wild flowers.
I captioned my drawing: In a perfectly easy world I would gather my friends to me like wild flowers.
I then thought: In a perfectly slow world,
I will pluck, or grow, or seek and find flowers that are already near.
Last week was an emotional one, hopefully this week will be more stable. As I cook my way to Thursday I will sow seeds of gratitude. It seemed, last week, that anything that I perceived as "wrong" or even "hard" caused my mind to panic and refrain... I need this for the baby!
I knew, at some point in this, my first, pregnancy, that becoming a mother would change me and yet I would still be me. Not the same, but not different either. A small voice inside me (the one I love best because she is so often right and beautiful) suggests I believe that I will become even more me with this threshold crossing. I will go from maiden to mother -- and I want to really believe, to really trust -- from dreaming to being. It's hard work, always striving, always pushing to get to the roots of yourself and I'd like to change it from hard work to work: joyful, insistent, growing, blossoming continuously. Wild flowers. Seeds are blest...
A story of encouragement...
I had a wild and crazy breakdown late last week. I flippin freaked out over a very small, everyday thing. What I was really freaking out over was my ability, my strengths or weaknesses. My fear monster saw an opportunity to panic me and took it, full force. I did all the stranger things that I do, when I allow myself to really break down, in an effort to empty out the panic and fear. I cried, screamed, shrank, hid and then I did something I never have done before. I took off all my clothes, laid a towel on our back deck and sat right down in the cold, falling rain. I cried, I whimpered, my mind raced. I breathed, I envisioned, I tried to pray. I prayed for someone to find me, for someone to talk to. I prayed to know who to reach out for. After a time, I moved to forgiveness and away from pleading. I went inside, dried off, made for the safety of the under-the-blankets place and my phone rang. My soul sister, my about to be a second time mama, my guiding Virgo woman in arms, from the past, all the way from Michigan rang me. Sure, she was returning a call, but before I could write off the hope and glee of a prayer answered, she told me "Yesterday, I had a total, crazy, melt down."
And I asked her, "Did you ever worry, the first time you were pregnant that you weren't worthy of the child inside you?"
We talked it out. I managed to say my panic aloud, through my shaking voice, because I knew it was only panic and that saying those fears aloud shrinks them. I know that being honest about your fears conquers them. And she told me, exactly what I hoped and needed reminding of: the people that have fears like those, are the ones that are most worthy. It's the ones that never consider themselves, or their children growing, that are the most worrisome.