the future – maybe it never comes – but at times i see glimpses into its misty shores – i see another me standing on a distant beach. she waves across the fog.
she loves me.
i admire her –
She is telling me that all will be well.
The past two days have opened up the old, patched over cavern of suffering – not me directly, but suffering as close as a child can feel like the ache of another is inside me.
I cannot fix other people’s thoughts or pain. I cannot grow two heads and give what this girl thinks a father would/could be giving her. I cannot make him say or do what she believes would heal.
The thinking has spiraled down again for this child. I am nursemaid at the door, knocking to see what I can get, offering to fluff pillows to heal a broken heart – helpless.
I take a step back and remember my creative powers.
The power of creation of the human is immense. Staring into the problem keeps us stuck. I am able to hold some open space finally into something different.
Space within exceeds the boundaries of this house, street, suburb, city. I spread out across the ocean from the still point within me. Canvasses from younger years and new blank ones are all laid out…Spreading paint around changes the very air we breath into our organic shells.
Stepping into the space, Eden picks out childhood paintings and arranges them in the kitchen – she raises the rooftop and lets the sun in, just a bit.
We do not step into journeys of perfection – we do not come here for that. As a parent, the inclination to wish it were different or try to make it all better is a mighty pull – and an incorrect thought.
All these sorrows will pass.
I see that soon my life will be very different than it is now.
Perhaps like a glimpse of the flags at the finish line – we are given peeks into the crystal ball to give us strength to go on – I can fall down in exhaustion soon, after I cross the marked end; I can pour the whole jug of water over my head in just a bit – and just knowing that helps me keep putting one numb foot in front of the other to get there.
Life as Improv 
I grieve for the pains of this child, the want of a love that may or may not ever fit into her desires as a child, your love as a mother and teacher will guide you both through these times. She is lucky to have you.
Namaste
Benjamin
Oh dear man. You understand her pain more than I – learning to Hold center expansively. Hope the flow is kind in your mysterious corner 🙂
Thank you my friend. You and she will be fine, embrace each other through these times she needs you strength and you need her love. An I am fine. Painting, traveling and writing.
sweet encouragement to be with wonder, with questions, often un-answerable.
I feel wonder at the exotic buds which spring from unseen sources – perhaps the questions take root and bloom. At dawn such challenging conditions – and now an easing. – you are well-named, sc!
This hits extremely close to home today, so it easy for me to hold this space with you. Our circumstances are likely very different, but I also have a daughter who is struggling, and there is only so much I can do to ease her process. (And mine, because I bear my own pain in the circumstances.)
I am reminded of what someone said to me years ago, “Yes, this, too, shall pass, but how shall it pass?” So today your post has reminded me to do my work, to focus on my breathing, open to the lessons, and see joy wherever it glimmers through. To be patient and very careful with my words To love, despite how I will be treated in the midst of her struggle.
Peace to you today.
As you hold space with me, of course, I do with you as well. The lessons granted are immense – I can see. The heaviness has lifted here – miraculously – with intense love. Doesn’t always work that way, though. Peace back at you. I appreciate how deeply you read and connect with me here – powerful force in that 🙂
Everything passes, everything but sorrow, it seems. Loss cuts so deep; and I know grief is the other side of joy, but what a long journey to get there. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.
Thank you, Denise! The window of this blog allows me to write out some of the sorrow, and then, look at it more objectively. Often, as with this post, soon after I hit publish, the dynamics change to something new again. Hearing from others walking along with me of their experiences and shared sorrows also lightens my load considerably. Thank you so much for walking with me here!!!
The hardest thing ever is to hold that space for your child when she’s suffering, I can relate to these mind storms… I see from your comment that it has indeed passed, yay. Take care friend..)
What an intimacy – this parenting role 🙂 The speed of the easing compared to this past winter validates the space held – or the new trails traversed…grateful! Hope you are well and dancing up a storm up there 🙂
Holding space –
beautiful. My own daughter has taught me so much already.
Blessings to you both –
Laurie
I read this again..as I hold space for healing for others. Not sure exactly how to reach back, but I do know this is a big part of it. Thank you. Also love the paintings. I have been doing art with my mom and daughter. It is so healing to be in that creative space with them too.
Namaste-
L
Can sound like weird words – holding space – but after hearing this phrasing from a friend, I realized these words created a tangible image of what I could do – A doing that is internal and powerful – especially when there is no outward “doing” that can be done. I love that you and your daughter do art together. The act of being together making, creating, doing, playing with materials without expectation – magic in my book 🙂 You add so much loveliness to the flow of words, Laurie!
Thanks so much for the note. Yes, holding space – It is powerful. More so than outward doing I think. So I offer my words in this way for those who are struggling like I was. It is different than trying to “explain” to the thinking mind –
as I continue to heal and hold the space for healing.
It is wonderful that you are able to do that for your daughter. When I was struggling, having someone to be with me in that space without trying too hard was the best medicine.
Namaste –
Laurie
“I will sit with you in this place for I know the heaviness in your heart, as it is also in mine –
and my arms reach wide enough to hold us both.”
-Laurie
(my recent post inspired here.)
Namaste –
L