Intended To Be

An Art Journal spread from my workshop FLOW in 21 SECRETS. 

There is nothing else we need.

I've been blessed with two baby showers filled full of amazing women and the greatest of love.

The crib, the changing table, even the stroller are assembled and sitting patiently.

All the teeny tiny clothes have been washed and hung on baby blue hangers or neatly folded away.

There's baby bottles, breast pump accessories, toys that rattle, light up, and meant to teach.  There's a diaper bag I'd use as a lap top bag in a second and a fancy grey car seat.

There are books and lotions and cards full of wishes.

There is wonder, anticipation, worry, and excitement.

There is so much love.  A love so deep.

I've worked the last nine months so hard to make enough money, to get everything in place.  To be as ready as I can be.  I've pushed myself at times to ridiculous exhaustion.  I've stayed focus, clear, and determined to meet this one little deadline.  This one point I knew I could finally let go.  Trust.  Rest.  Be open to watching life miraculously unfold.

I told myself that the launch of 21 SECRETS would be the beginning of my "maternity leave".  That from here on out--for the next few months, my focus would no longer be work.

Last night, as I closed my laptop and smiled at how beautifully 21 SECRETS has come together.  How hundreds of people from all over the world have gathered in one virtual space.  How the teachers' work so beautifully compliments each other and creates a place of sacred creativity, I felt an ending of a sort begin to poke it's face at me.

I've been resisting it.  Even throwing little tantrums.  Sometimes just ignoring that its here.

But there is an ending to my life, as well as this great new beginning.

There are things that no longer pull me--no longer draw my interest in like they once did before.  There is a softening happening.  An understanding of life so wider than I'd ever imagine.  There is a new connection I feel to the Earth, to the Sky, to the breeze that wakes me up in the morning.  There is a new way that I look at people and see their heart centers first before I see anything.

My life is no longer my own.  I was foolish to think that it ever was.

Like the delicate strands from a spider's web, we are each connected.  Like his heart beating inside my belly.  Like how the sand from the shore lines the ocean floor and arrives at the foot of another continent.  Like how Hansel and I know each other's thoughts without saying.

I can't ignore where my life is going.  How I was meant to be right here, right now, in this place.

It's not about having a baby, or becoming a parent, or any of those things, you see.

It's that moment when you realize--that the person you once were--is now becoming the person the Universe has always intended you to be.