Cold, black, anguish, loneliness, anxiety, entangled, imprisoned, afraid, fumbling, death, lost, hopeless, weak. Forever. Eyes closed, stumbling over every block. Every fear. Every hurt. Every trauma. Lost. Never to be found. Eyes shut so tight I see stars. I am cold. The chill is bitter and it’s freezing every bone in my body. Will I survive? I can’t open my eyes. I can’t. Even if I could it’s so dark I will never be able to see. There is nothing to light the way. I feel paralyzed and yet I move. Stumbling, falling, crawling. Like my knees, my heart is bruised, bleeding and wounded. I wear a mask made up of false securities. I keep my eyes closed. Don’t look. There is nothing to see anyways. Panic sets in. How will I find my way through? It’s impossible. I can’t do it. The fear is holding me hostage. The only thing more daunting than leaving is remaining. It’s unbearable. The darkness is swallowing me. I can feel it pulling me under like a forceful current into the dark abyss. One finger. Place one finger on the ground. I feel the ground. It’s so cold. Another finger. One hand. The other. The ground is getting warmer. I can’t see, but I can feel! I can feel my way through. It’s the only way. I pull myself up. My feet are now touching the ground. My legs, a gelatinous substance, miraculously keep me steady. I still can’t see. I reach my hand out and feel giant walls built around me. The walls are rough and riddled with cracks. I handle them ever so carefully. As I tenderly move my hands over the wreckage these walls consist of I realize I can use them as a map of sorts. With eyes closed, I allow these walls to guide me through and forward. It’s getting warmer. I touch the ground with my calloused hands. There are deep grooves here also. They too are charting the way for me. As I continue feeling my way through the darkness I find my bearings. I feel warm. My body is warm all over. It hurts to keep my eyes shut. I’m so afraid to open them. The darkness just might swallow me whole. I have allowed intuition to guide my way through thus far and I find myself on steady ground. I trust these thoughts. I open one eye. Two. I am swallowed whole! It’s warm. It’s bright! My eyes adjust. It’s light! Everything is so clear. My path behind me, before me and ahead of me has been illuminated right before my wide open eyes. I look around and take it all in. The hurt, the pain, the trauma. They safely guided me to this place of warmth. When I couldn’t see the way, I felt my way through. I felt it all. As the feelings flowed through me and out of they propelled me to this beautiful, breathtaking light. The light flowed through my wounds. My heart. It’s open. It’s healing. It is full of light. Warm, gold, happiness, jubilation, peace, life, free, confident, strong, grounded, hopeful. Always. As I stood in the sun I realized that just as these attributes have always been who I am, so has the light. All I had to do was open my eyes. The eyes to my heart. It was in my darkness that I found my light. Only to remember that I was never lost and neither was my light.
To the mama in quarantine,
How are you? Are you okay? How are you holding up? Are you drinking enough water? Are you making sure to eat? I really want to know. I know what’s going on with the weather. Yes, I saw that crazy political post on Facebook. Yes, Target was out of toilet paper again. I don’t care for small talk. I want to know the honest truth of how you are. I don’t care how ugly, obscene or “inappropriate” your truth is. I want to know it all. I am here. I see you. I am you. I know how much you love your babies. I also know the sound of their voice is like nails on a chalkboard right now. Which I am sure you have in your home because you are now their teacher. So, not only is their incessant chatter driving you to the brink of insanity you are now responsible for their education. You are amazing. I know you don’t feel amazing. Your hair is greasy and you have indistinguishable stains on your cute loungewear. Those little fuckers. You would think with all the hand washing going on it would be nearly impossible for there to be stains anywhere in your home or on you. A mom can dream right? I know how hard you work to keep your home picked up and tidy. I am fully aware that those dishes are piling up and in spite of your best efforts the sink will never be empty right now. That’s okay. Your home is messy because your children don’t ever leave right now and your sink is full because you are cooking three meals a day. And we can’t forget about the snacks. Oh, those fucking snacks. I know you are wondering if your child is an alien because the amount of food they can consume is a phenomenon. Rest assured, they are little aliens. You love them anyway and you find yourself on Pinterest searching for the healthiest snack and the cutest way to present it. Girl, throw some celery and peanut butter their way and let them create something. Count it as art for the day. One word: DOORDASH. You’re amazing. I hope you are beginning to see just how amazing you are. I know how much you love your husband. I also know that some days you want to throttle him because he left for work and left you home with the tiny aliens. And if you have teenage aliens? He’s an asshole for leaving for sure. 😉 You know he has to go. You are even thankful. But you are also a little resentful. That’s okay. I know as much as he tries to understand he just doesn’t. He’s not a mom. The weight he carries on his shoulders is so much and you honor that. The load you carry is just as heavy. I hope you honor that. You carry that load along with the multiple loads of laundry. Can we talk about the damn laundry? How is it possible that you have as much laundry as you do and these tiny aliens haven’t left for months? Another fucking phenomenon. I know your partner worries about you sometimes and wonders if you are depressed because you are tired a lot of and express that often. He’s just worried. The truth is you are fucking tired! You remind him you are raising and educating his children during a global pandemic. It’s okay to be tired every damn day right now. It’s okay that some days your motivation seems to be missing in action. It’s not. It’s playing hide and seek with the tiny aliens. It will surface. I promise. I know how much you miss going out and getting dressed up. I know it sucks that no one gets to see that sexy shade of red lipstick you purchased on a wim at Target. I also know that the highlight of your week is heading down to Target. I know that seems depressing to you. It’s okay. Girl, get you an iced coffee and strut up those isles like it’s a catwalk and you are the star of the show. Because you are. I also know how much you miss your friends. You crave connection. Your children and husband cannot provide the type of connection you need. You need the women in your life. I long for the same connection. Please make sure you make that time for yourself. FaceTime is a wonderful tool. I have been spending a few days a week chatting with girlfriends and it’s life giving. For both of us. I know how fearful of the future you are. I also know that you are fully ready for whatever comes your way because you are a damn Oracle and you are in tune with your intuition. What a phenomenon. I see where you little aliens get their magic. You don’t know what the next year will look like. Hell, you don’t know what tomorrow will look like. That scares you a little and it’s incredibly overwhelming. But your faith is beautiful. Your perseverance is something to marvel at. Your ability to rise with the sun each morning and choose to see the goodness life has to offer is inspiring. Your light is luminous and your spirit is breathtakingly magnificent. Even on your hardest and darkest days, especially those days. For there is a woman who allows herself to just be. In all her obscene, messy, raw, and vulnerable glory. That is the woman who is teaching her children how to navigate 2020. And more importantly, life. I love that woman. I hope you do too. She’s fantastic. She is the woman who will check in on her friends even when she is struggling. She knows sisterhood is everything. She doesn’t like small talk. She craves real and messy. She is you. She is me. You aren’t alone my friend. I am here. I always want know how you are. You will be okay. We will be okay. We can do hard things. Hang in there. I love you.
Signed a fellow mama in quarantine