Wrote this last evening, finally getting a chance to post…
Just yesterday, I was thinking how good life is, and how fortunate I am to be doing the things I love. The last few days have been really peaceful.
And then, this morning. Anjali is unwell, with a fever and a cold and a rash of some kind on her face. Her normally cherubic disposition does not know how to deal with this kind of discomfort, and she is responding with the two ways she knows how: crying and being close to Mama. Luckily I don’t resent that, not this time. I don’t have a high-powered job, and it feels nice that my life can more easily accommodate sudden changes like this. But the part I has forgotten, is the emotion a Mother feels when her little one is sick.
A sort of suspension where your heart is in your mouth when you hear your little one cry and see her tiny face puckered up. And when she naps, you wait. A sort of waiting that feels endless. You don’t want the waiting to end because you are finally getting a little time to yourself, but you also want it to end, so that you can know how your little one is doing. And in this waiting, some times the breath stops. You pick it up, and try to let go. But its damned hard. It comes with the territory of being a Mom.
All my life I have run from responsibility. From school days I have never wanted to lead, because then I will be put on the spot and won’t have the chance to change my mind. And fast forward to now, when I have undertaken the biggest responsibility of my life. And what I’m starting to realize is that responsibility doesn’t have to be a burden. Sometimes it feels like it, but we have a choice. Responsibility is not a burden when we hold it lightly. When we notice that we are holding our breath and let go, trusting that the next breath will happen. When we let the waiting go, trusting that things will be okay. When we realize that we can not orchestrate this life, but we can have respond-ability. Perhaps that is really what responsibility is: a call to live this moment as fully as we possibly could before we go to the next one.
Just as I finish this, I hear Anjali waking up…
With Love, S.