Somewhere I Lost My Way

Shortly before I became a mother, I felt like I was finally getting my act together.  I was happy, healthy, in the best physical shape of my life, and I was emotionally and spiritually fulfilled.

Then The Boy was born.  Taking care of a very high-need baby who turned in to a very high-need boy took some of that personal growth from me.  Who has an hour for yoga when you can’t even manage to get the laundry done?  My spiritual practice seemed like the simplest thing to give up.  Welcoming an unplanned baby into my life a few years later magnified the shortcomings.

I try to keep myself happy and sane by working with my hands: cooking, sewing, painting.  Knitting is the closest I get to mindfulness.  I do what I can, but…still there is something missing.

It’s a stretch for me to even talk about this here.  I think spirituality can be something wonderful if shared, but to me it has always been a private act.  But lately I have been feeling the lack of care my spirit has been getting.

I have had the distinct feeling lately that I’m not getting what I need from the people in my life.  Like there’s something missing.  Then one sleepy evening, as I lay in bed after a very difficult day with the kids, I had an epiphany.  Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s me.

So I made the promise to myself to start on that long path again.  Of course it’s different now.  I try to do some yoga and there are children climbing all over me.  I squeeze it in as I can.  Just like my 10 minute sewing sessions, I have 5 minute yoga sessions.  I’ll take it any way I can get it.

My friend The Visionary gifted me some henna.  She turned my body into a lovely work of art and I am so grateful.  I simply asked for an aum symbol and she elaborated from there.  She is a wonderfully spiritual person herself, and was very receptive and encouraging to my excited ramblings about my revelation.

So now when I see the beautiful art on my body, I am reminded to live mindfully, peacefully, and with lovingkindness.