I planned my day, after all....made appointments and everything. How could anything interfere after I've made plans.
Flexibility lesson #1: It was only one hour after I woke up that I saw signs of these plans not taking hold. Last night Kennedy pleaded her case for saving her bath for the morning. It felt like a flash back, because I've had this conversation many times. But it wasn't a flashback, it was actually happening again. I also felt tired so I agreed to delay the bath until this morning. When she made her way into my bed at 4:00am, and didn't fall asleep for another 30 minutes, I knew that the pinky promise to bathe in the morning would be a struggle.
She did bathe this morning. It was just more rushed and with more whining than we planned.
Flexibility lesson #2: I had every intention of accomplishing at least 3 things on my to-do list at the office this morning. Before I hung my purse on the hook just inside the door, I had a phone call. The next hour passed without even touching that first file folder. Showing up for my friend on the phone, who was feeling sad, was and is a priority for me. The file could wait, and it did.
Flexibility lesson #3: It was 10:00, and I still needed to accomplish no less than 3 of the things on my to-do list. Then I received a surprise visit; my nephew stopped by my office. And then my son arrived, also wanting to actually hang out with me. How could I resist? I long for moments of talking with these teenage boys, and today it happened. The files could wait until after lunch, right? They had to.
Flexibility lesson #4: And this lesson is a big one. Six and a half years have passed since I gave birth to my daughter, yet I remember it like yesterday. I am grateful for the miracle I experienced that day she was born. Sometimes the days pass by slowly but the years go by very quickly. She doesn't stay on my lap as long as she use to.
I crave to hold a newborn baby....mine. I wake up in the night, thinking I heard a cry down the hall that needs me. I feel a deep nurturing desire that is bursting to hold my newborn baby and kiss its forehead. I write letters to this baby and let the tears stream down my face. It helps me feel better; I feel like I am sending that nurturing love to a part of life that is not human right now, but that still thrives on receiving it.
"Adrianne, who are you to argue with Life? Life has it's own way of operating without your input." - I received this advice years ago, and I think about it often. I thought I was in charge. I thought I had the power to plan everything from my outfit to my schedule to the birth of my children.
Life is inviting me to feel the trust and the love throughout my day, in cooperation with what I want. It feels better to lean in to what is possible, rather than arguing with Life. It's just a matter of what I see in front of me and what I believe to be true.
#1) I believe that holding my daughter at 4:00am was exactly what we both needed.
#2) I believe that comforting my friend through her sadness offered her support and offered me compassion. Compassion feels good to share.
#3) I believe that trying to relate to the teenage boys in my life is refreshing. They talk a different language, almost. It's fascinating to get a glimpse into their perspective. Did you know that if you wear yoga pants, and carry a Vera Bradley bag while drinking a Starbucks, you might be considered as "Basic as a level 14 on the ph scale." What does that even mean?
#4) I believe that the two children in my life are miracles, and I am eternally grateful for them. I also believe that sending love (through my letters and feelings) into the world will nurture creation in some form. I don't understand it right now, and I might not ever, but I believe it's possible.
"Don't argue with God, Adrianne!" I'm remembering.