letting go

Of course we are aware of the concept of “putting things out into the Universe”. Sending out positive energy, t. You might also say you are giving it to God. Praying. Meditating. Call it what you will. I believe it’s all the same action and serves the same purpose.

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me…

Myself, having arrived at my spiritual beliefs by way of a rough and rugged road. I prefer to light a candle and waft those weighty concerns, aspirations, yearnings, and gratitude like a transcendent mist into the vast, great ether of mystery. To be quiet, still. To visualize the results. To listen. Those actions provide me with a sense of peace and an awareness that I’m not alone and my longings aren’t simply falling upon deaf ears. They have a destination. Where their journey ends, I may never know. But that isn’t important to me. It’s the interaction with the Great Unknown, the Universe, that fortifies me.

Manifesting a reality. That on which you focus expands. That is the end-game for all of this, right? The goal. The reason we believe in something greater than ourselves. We are all connected.

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe…

Do you believe that we ultimately get what we give? That you reap what you sow? In karma? That the energy we expend to the wider world and beyond comes back to us in some form, at some point? That which we don’t understand is still an answer; sometimes it comes in the form of a lesson. Let’s tune in and pay attention. Imagine if we saw each obstacle, as well as each other, as an opportunity to learn, grow, and love. Easier said than done, trust me. I’m no where near mastering that challenge. I am still a child. But it’s what we all strive for. Something, a desire, a goal, a hope for another is put on your heart. How do you accomplish what is seemingly impossible?

I find myself cyclically fighting the same inner battles and struggling with some of the same issues, time and time again. All we can do is to keep trying. Trust ourselves and listen to our instincts, our hearts, the collective consciousness. To have an open heart and an open mind. Focus on the positive. Do good in the world. Desire the change. Visualize, manifest.

Let go.

Something’s gonna change your world. I know it.

Sounds of laughter, shades of life are ringing through my open ears
Inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on, across the universe

*With all love and respect to the great John Lennon, I prefer the Rufus Wainwright version. It’s so impactful and visually stunning.

Standing in my kitchen, I had a random thought that made me feel like I was in a Hitchcock film. You know that push-pull camera effect (the dolly zoom) where it feels like things are zooming in and out at the same time? I lost my bearings. My knees buckled.

In a little over four years, my daughter and only child will no longer be living in our house. And she can’t wait.

Four years may seem like an eternity to a teenager, but to a parent, it’s the blink of an eye. It was just yesterday when I was dropping her off at preschool as we repeated our habitual leave-taking mantra. Her: “Mommies always come back?” Me: “Yes. Mommies always come back.” And that has been proven to her every day for the last 11 years.

It all goes by too fast. From baby to teen, from Montessori preschool to high school tours. We have stepped into a wormhole.

We’re discussing learning to drive, AP and IB classes, college prep and scholarships. Sex and relationships. Drinking. Drugs. Personal responsibility. Part of me longs for the days of Teletubbies, The Wiggles, and Spongebob. Part of me still wants to help her with her bath, pick out her clothes, and brush her hair every morning. I find myself looking back at those days more frequently, more fondly.

As with everything, these things fade. Nothing gold can stay. Already it’s a fate worse than death to have no plans on the weekend. Instead of being the smartest, coolest mom in the world, I’m finding I’m not so cool and actually kind of nerdy and goofy. A lot of things just aren’t my business anymore. When I try to participate in conversations with “the girls”, I can catch traces of sarcastic humoring in their voices. I recognize it because I invented it. I still have a decent fashion sense, however, so I do have that going for me.

But she still comes to me when she has a problem, is confused or sad, or wants to talk. She trusts me. She knows I’m not going anywhere. For that I am grateful.

We are in the process of raising an exceptional person. We have raised a daughter who is concerned about the issues that will affect her future and the futures of her peers. She’s informed and active in the causes she cares about. She’s intelligent, kind, fair-minded and independent. She’s excited about the diverse student body of her prospective high school. As much as I hate to relinquish control of anything, I’m beginning to realize that I’ll be comfortable with her generation in the driver’s seat.

She still knows that Mommies always come back. Here’s to hoping children always come back as well.

The Middle-Aged Ingenue

Across The Universe

The Wormhole In My Kitchen