Who Am I? Who Am I Not?
I was picking out avocados when this woman wearing white pants and a bright pink scarf tied around her waist came over to smile at Phoenix.
What a beautiful boy, she said. May God bless you to raise him with wisdom.
Right there. Avocado in hand. I stopped dead in my tracks and tears started to swell.
I'm getting used to strangers coming up and cooing over Phoenix and saying what a "big boy" he is. But these words really hit me.
They were sweet but direct.
Like a message from some far-away land, washed ashore, and tucked inside a glass bottle.
I could barely make it past the apples, the raspberries on sale for ninety-nine cents, the watermelons stacked in a pyramid until the tears started falling.
I want nothing more than to raise this boy with wisdom. To show him all the good that exists inside his little body--how the universe is contained in each of his cells.
I want to believe that my decisions in child-rearing will rise from a place deeply connected to Source. That whatever truths I know in my heart, will be reflected in my actions and words. That I will do my best always--to stay in the present moment. To meet him exactly where he is--instead of where I wish for him to go or be or do.
But somehow that word wisdom scratched a current of emotion inside me.
Who am I to know the first thing about wisdom?
I don't own a saffron cloak and there are days that I'm plagued by nothing but negative thoughts.
But I do know that sometimes I look at Phoenix and I get so overwhelmed with love that I swear the entire world stops for a minute. I think it happened even that morning when we turned the corner onto the canned goods aisle.
So maybe I don't need anything extra--don't need to be renown by many--or write any spiritual books--or eat only organic, seasonal foods.
Wisdom isn't attached to anything our mind can conjure up anyways. It can't be packaged or branded or sold in the details of some exotic retreat.
It's simply the language of our hearts. A multitude of words and feelings. Laced and tied together. Hanging from branches defined as love.
Who am I to know the first thing about wisdom? Who am I not?
May God bless us all, not with the wisdom--but oh, the understanding to access it.
And especially the courage to let it light our way.
8 comments:
Oh Connie. Bless you. And your wee family. xoxo
Thank you for reminding me of those extra tender moments of having an infant child. Being a new mother can be overwhelming in many ways. Now that my two girls are grown, may I suggest that wisdom comes from knowing the difference between the things you must accept from the things you can change. Sometimes things won't go the way you expect or hope, but accepting things the way they are goes a long way in being able to handle it all!
This post made me cry.
Your heart is big, and you are more courageous than you know...
Phoenix is blessed to have you as his mother.
xo
Kristin
Thank you. Thank you for sharing vunerable beauty - for the reminder that sometimes strangers say more than they realize in a POSITIVE way - for knowing what you strive for as a parent, even though some days you (we) are not there - For being an artist and a mom and all of those things that make you you
I too feel the same way about my daughter. Although she is grown and in college, she still inspires and amazes me and I'm sure always will. I trust that the love in our spirit helps guide and provide for us so no need to worry.
your tears were because she pulled up what was down deep in your heart...you are already doing that..God Bless
This really touched me. As mothers I think we are all always striving to do it best...and they best is usually listening from our hearts. Thank you so much for that reminder. I think I'll bookmark this post and come back whenever I am needing it.
this is such a beautiful story, connie. i believe you have a good grasp on what it takes to parent.
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