Thursday, June 13

I am a warrior of quiet

Fitting it all in, that's what my days are about.

The hearty weave of two lives together; mine and Cedar's.

There are things I'm not willing to give up, that are non-compromisable for me to continue to be a balanced, healthy and happy person, and that makes things...full.

Sometimes I go blank when I have a free hour because there's too much to fit into it.

I am a warrior of quiet. I wear only soft cotton clothes. I keep an eye on the grass seed sprouting, the furtive woodpeckers, the tiny patch of fancy ferns on the front lawn I don't want Tim to mow over. I do an upstairs downstairs dance with laundry, keep a tally on groceries, try to keep surfaces cleaned off. I try. I just called a cleaning service to come every two weeks to do the bathrooms, the vacuuming and the dusting. I'm hunting down the number of a babysitter to come a couple of times per week to let me finish up some house projects. I need that time doing things on my own. I wrestle for it. I can lose myself now or muscle up.

This world ~ my house ~ my garden ~ Cedar's childhood ~ my fulfillment, takes it all. Everything fits into that. 

I am so lucky and so surrounded by plentitude ~ so why am I so cranky most days? This stuff is tough. But I'm glad it's here. It's in my face and I have to deal with it; be polished by it. I don't get to ignore this stuff and I'm glad of that.

The words all seem so brittle to describe things, just like they were for pregnancy and labor and birth and the love for my little boy. The words seem empty of the true feelings that fill them up. If you have gone through this, you know the meanings.