A collection of contentions.
Tiny doorways that led me into expansive new worlds.
They suggested happiness would come with shiny new possessions.
But I've never known such glee as riding down a river on a floating piece of rubber, with friends, trying not to get impaled on rogue branches.
I was told education was important, but no classroom has ever matched the lessons of my own mistakes and explorations.
Money has always been considered a harvest.
But what if every dollar was actually a seed?
Not an end goal, but a wealth of beginnings.
I surmised that it was wise to control my anger, but I never knew it was standing as protector for my sadness.
I was asked why I couldn't leave my 5 week old baby at home like "most" Mums can, but my instincts told me we were still one and the same, and our need to be close to one another wasn't to be overridden by anyone else’s ideas.
Everyone is telling each other - “You do you!”
But I'm wondering what this sentiment will do to the Sacred Us.
We blast the air con in summer, and the heater in winter, but we're paying money to access hot and cold therapies to “hack” our health.
I sense Mother Earth is face palming over this.
They urge the creatives to be disciplined.
To push and to strive, and to sit obediently at their desks.
But this craft feels more like a sphincter - opening only with enough movement, patience and fibrous inspiration. (I am deeply apologetic about this metaphor. Truly. Huge regret.)
They say all the men are born protectors, and all the women are born nurturers.
But these roles have always been reversed in our marriage.
Not exclusively, but certainly instinctively.
They suggest all the answers can be found within, but I've missed so much of the Mystery on my search for unwavering truth.
The nursing homes are running activities to entertain the elders, but imagining an empowering space where they can instead share their stories and wisdom with us all makes me want to shout, Bingo!
They say all there is to know about God is in the Bible.
But the God I know seems unimpressed with this strange development.
Most things I know about God can't be expressed in words.
The wind seems to rustle in agreement.
We try to keep the kids distracted, but I wonder what we think they need distracting from in this delicate and magnificent phenomenon we call life.
They say family is everything, but I think everything is everything.
And family is family.
For all that that is, and all that that isn’t.
We’re told to consult our doctor before making changes, but certainly no one knows as little about me as my doctor. They never seem to listen in earnest, aside from the ones named Patrick, for some reason.
We're told to get up and get on with it, but what if 'it' was unfolding perfectly from our position on the ground?
From our posture of surrender…
The fetal position is no passive place.
I’ve known nothing to grow quite so spectacularly as a fetus.
Love this Lysette. I had a similar thought about needing to "distract" kids the other day, and had a big discussion with my oldest that it's not my job to entertain him 😆