AND SO IT BEGINS
Well, I had a whole long post in mind for today having to do with stuff about the candida diet, but something more important happened yesterday: I started crying while unloading the dishwasher. There I was putting glasses in the cupboard and all of a sudden the tears started flowing. I had just read Bella’s post (I’ll put a link here as soon as I figure out how to do that) about Sarah moving out and the garage sale, and I don’t know – it just came.
That I felt emotional was not unusual. It doesn’t take much to make me want to cry. The thing that was different yesterday was that I actually let myself. I didn’t think, oh, I don’t have time for this, or oh, the kids will be up soon, I better not let them see me this way, or, oh, there’s too much – I’ll flood the kitchen. I just let the tears fall. And then, I actually Sat Down and cried. Just cried. Right there at the crusty kitchen table.
Then I got up and resumed unloading the dishwasher and cried some more, every once in a while pausing to let out a sob. And then E woke up and I went to get him and we went on with the day.
Crying while unloading the dishwasher just reaffirmed my need to do this whole cleanse thing. Already things are starting to release and let go, and I think it’s because I am moving into a more intentional space. A place of permission, of expansion. A place of being. I know, with the way my life is right now, that I could not get into that kind of space without having some kind of ritual, something to mark that I am moving into a different time.
I’ve been keeping so much right under the surface for so long now that it was bound to come spilling out, but I think what really got me going, after reading Bella’s blog, was all the stuff about endings and beginnings. How so much is ending for me right now:
This time of my life, my “child bearing years.” (what an awful phrase)
My kids’ babyhood. And I know everyone goes through this, to some degree. I guess I resist talking about it or even articulating it to myself b/c it is so damn cliché and hallmark. But when it’s actually happening to Me, it’s deep and profound. And so yes, there are the teeny socks and the crib sheets and the Easter outfit. There are also the toys they never played with, and it occurred to me earlier that part of what’s ending is the part where I didn’t know who they would be. I didn’t know if C would enjoy the car track, or whether or not E would have fun with the bowling set. I had no idea who these people were, and now I do.
Knowing I’ll never go through that again. And I know I don’t want to, and that I’m making a choice in not having any more kids, which I think is a good choice. But it’s not without pain and a sense of loss, and also some ambivalence. I spent a long time thinking I didn’t want any kids, then just one. Then I had my second and all of a sudden I wanted a third. Right away. It was crazy, but that’s how I felt. But as the hormones started to fade, and the reality of my life sunk in, I knew it would not be wise.
Still, I had been surprised that I had even the fleeting desire for a third (a girl?). I think, really, if I had started sooner, I would have had more. I don’t think I’ve ever really let myself be sad about that. So there is that loss and that sadness, and even the baby that I wanted for a while but who will not be. (again, most likely.)
And my time with C. He’s in school five mornings a week now, and it’s still kind of achey. Like when he asked if there is school tomorrow, and then if there is school the day after that and I said no, that’s Saturday and he said, “okay, good. Then we’ll have time in the morning to play with all the stuff in the yard.” So here he is, starting to schedule his playtime.
I let some of that bubble up and come out, and it felt good. Even so, there was part of me that held back, thinking that I wanted to wait until I knew I would not be interrupted. But, I’m beginning to realize that time will never be, so I have to take it when it comes. I always think, later, in the bathtub, or when I’m writing, I’ll let it out. But as I sat down to write this, I did not cry.
So, again, gotta take it as it comes. Maybe I’m beginning to get that, just a little bit. In the midst of all the endings, a beginning. Today I allowed myself to stop doing to let myself feel.
Well, I had a whole long post in mind for today having to do with stuff about the candida diet, but something more important happened yesterday: I started crying while unloading the dishwasher. There I was putting glasses in the cupboard and all of a sudden the tears started flowing. I had just read Bella’s post (I’ll put a link here as soon as I figure out how to do that) about Sarah moving out and the garage sale, and I don’t know – it just came.
That I felt emotional was not unusual. It doesn’t take much to make me want to cry. The thing that was different yesterday was that I actually let myself. I didn’t think, oh, I don’t have time for this, or oh, the kids will be up soon, I better not let them see me this way, or, oh, there’s too much – I’ll flood the kitchen. I just let the tears fall. And then, I actually Sat Down and cried. Just cried. Right there at the crusty kitchen table.
Then I got up and resumed unloading the dishwasher and cried some more, every once in a while pausing to let out a sob. And then E woke up and I went to get him and we went on with the day.
Crying while unloading the dishwasher just reaffirmed my need to do this whole cleanse thing. Already things are starting to release and let go, and I think it’s because I am moving into a more intentional space. A place of permission, of expansion. A place of being. I know, with the way my life is right now, that I could not get into that kind of space without having some kind of ritual, something to mark that I am moving into a different time.
I’ve been keeping so much right under the surface for so long now that it was bound to come spilling out, but I think what really got me going, after reading Bella’s blog, was all the stuff about endings and beginnings. How so much is ending for me right now:
This time of my life, my “child bearing years.” (what an awful phrase)
My kids’ babyhood. And I know everyone goes through this, to some degree. I guess I resist talking about it or even articulating it to myself b/c it is so damn cliché and hallmark. But when it’s actually happening to Me, it’s deep and profound. And so yes, there are the teeny socks and the crib sheets and the Easter outfit. There are also the toys they never played with, and it occurred to me earlier that part of what’s ending is the part where I didn’t know who they would be. I didn’t know if C would enjoy the car track, or whether or not E would have fun with the bowling set. I had no idea who these people were, and now I do.
Knowing I’ll never go through that again. And I know I don’t want to, and that I’m making a choice in not having any more kids, which I think is a good choice. But it’s not without pain and a sense of loss, and also some ambivalence. I spent a long time thinking I didn’t want any kids, then just one. Then I had my second and all of a sudden I wanted a third. Right away. It was crazy, but that’s how I felt. But as the hormones started to fade, and the reality of my life sunk in, I knew it would not be wise.
Still, I had been surprised that I had even the fleeting desire for a third (a girl?). I think, really, if I had started sooner, I would have had more. I don’t think I’ve ever really let myself be sad about that. So there is that loss and that sadness, and even the baby that I wanted for a while but who will not be. (again, most likely.)
And my time with C. He’s in school five mornings a week now, and it’s still kind of achey. Like when he asked if there is school tomorrow, and then if there is school the day after that and I said no, that’s Saturday and he said, “okay, good. Then we’ll have time in the morning to play with all the stuff in the yard.” So here he is, starting to schedule his playtime.
I let some of that bubble up and come out, and it felt good. Even so, there was part of me that held back, thinking that I wanted to wait until I knew I would not be interrupted. But, I’m beginning to realize that time will never be, so I have to take it when it comes. I always think, later, in the bathtub, or when I’m writing, I’ll let it out. But as I sat down to write this, I did not cry.
So, again, gotta take it as it comes. Maybe I’m beginning to get that, just a little bit. In the midst of all the endings, a beginning. Today I allowed myself to stop doing to let myself feel.
3 comments:
Wow, sounds like we are living parallel lives! I also have an E in endless preschool and an aching for a third, even though I know it would certainly put me in an early grave, leave me divorced and more broke then I already am! In addition to your crying catharsis…I’m still amazed at our apparent sameness. Hang in there, the tears are cleansing for sure.
Letting yourself feel as it comes feels good, doesn't it?
How did I get so lucky as to share this crazy ride with you?
'to let myself feel' ~ oh yes ... hugs!
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