Just Writing about my boys

They never tell you how exhausting mothering is... How seldom you have a moment to catch your breath, to gear up for the next thing. They don't tell you that once labor is over, once you've pushed them out of your body, that's when the work really starts.

Everything in life works in cycles... Only life itself is linear. And even death is only the outer ring of the next thing and then we go Deeper In. But those cycles, they start to feel like crazy sometimes. Like that game we played in the yard as kids where you spin and spin and spin till you fall down and close your eyes and the world spins around you in the darkness of your eyes squeezed shut.

In my mothering right now, in the cycle of mothering, one of my children is in a dark spot. I know we'll pass through, move on, but he's barely back out into the light before the next child is in the dark, in out day in day out. Barely catching my breath as I go from one to the other. My heart is on her knees, since I can't stop spinning long enough to get my body there, and the Spirit, I trust, interceeds.

And then like a drop falling into my whirlpool, comes a moment like this. And I can stop, mid-spin, and look and breathe and pray-- mind, body and heart. In this moment, this drop turns the cycles to ripples of Grace and I can dance in my spinning for a just long enough moment to keep me upright.






















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