As my sweet household slumbers in these wee morning hours, I sit sipping my morning coffee feeling contented and peaceful. The sliding glass door to our yard is open and the air is cool on my bare feet touching the wood floor. I hear some birds occasionally tweeting their morning signals of light and the beginning of a new day. They seem as happy as I that the sun has not reached its merciless highs that it will as the day proceeds. Content to soak up this refreshingly cool and quiet time of day. It is my favorite time of day. Before all the deafening hummmm of people's technology and appliances drowns out the subtle birds and breeze. Before the rushed energy of the have nots and gottas do's is awakened.
A yappy dog is barking and even that seems in sync with it all. How do I sustain this moment? Why must everything change and change? Yet how god-awful and boring if it did not. It just seems to me that I have struggled for so long... Since I was a young child and realized that I was kind of on my own. An alien in my own family and needed to seek out a more evolved tribe of which to be a part. I have been seeking this tribe for most of my life. I have found one in my man, my children and a few friends. I have even found some of them here on this God box... Oddly enough.
I always wonder when the amazingly perfect chapters of my life will start. You know women, the ones that we were fed as little girls. The ones that start with........"And they lived HAPPILY ever after." Those that mark the beginning of a new life where there is only positive beautiful things happening. Where I will run through a field of white flowers and tall, warm high grass. Where there is a weeping willow before me with a small pond that it dips into for a sip of the cool clean water. Where the sky is blue and the sun beats warmly on my head and shoulders. Where some beautiful inspired Kate Bush Wuthering Heights play and I dance a strange eclectic ballet of my own making as I do only when I am certain no one can see me.
Then I awaken from this dream and into another as I hear my Christian James at the top of the stairs. I go to him and as I see his beautiful, still half asleep 3 year old face my heart jumps. He stands there in a white wife beater and red skull and crossbones pj shorts awaiting me cradling his long lean clone of daddy body down the stairs. I bury my face into his sweet smelling hair, caressing his soft skin and again I wish to be nowhere but here. This a different kind of heaven but equally if not more potent.
He climbs into our big red ice cooler and hides inside it with sheer delight. His world at this age is always new and joyful. For he feels what he feels as he feels it, expresses it fully and LOUDLY, then moves gracefully into the next moment. I admire him so. I learn from him all day long. And diligently do my job as I did with my now 16 year old......to let them know how deeply and truly they are loved. How lucky I am to be graced and blessed with both of their presences in my life. I give them my heart, my body, my everything. And in return I open to a love unlike anything I have ever known and am then able to go deeper into my existing relationships.
As I am writing right now, my boy nurses from one side to the other. Taking ownership of what he believes to be his and his alone much to daddy's dismay. What has been his domain since he was only hours new to this planet. It brings him health and great security. I am in awe that my 45 year old body can provide for him this way. As I did for my other son who is as healthy as he is not by accident. Another miracle. It is no less than this. The miraculous in the seeming mundane. A few minutes of nourishment and he is off, back to the yard, chasing the cat, climbing into the red cooler......this is my running through the fields. His talking and humming is my Kate Bush. My soundtrack in these moments.
His stare, be it long or short brings me into the grace of this moment. The smile in his eyes. The deep knowing. The spirit. He has rescued me from Hollywood and all its lies and trappings. As my Myles tried to. But without an in tact, true blue man to assist it was not possible. Besides, then I was still seeking the golden ring. I still thought it held something that would fill me. Now I know better. I see the young start ups and am thankful to not be them. Thankful to not be the "ingenue." Thankful to be a woman, a mother, an awake spirit not asleep to the lies anymore. Be they from a fairy tale, a bullshit business based on illusions and ego or a family as dysfunctional and lost as most are. I am free.
So what I see is that it is all a dream. Some light and some dark but all equally beautiful.