On my path there are hiccups. Little bumps that I never imagined I would need to deal with.
Little bumps, big bumps.
Learning to deal with people who are impossible to deal with, and learning to say good bye when there is no longer anyone worth dealing with.
Learning to love. To really love. To give. To try and want a little less. Learning that I did not know what love was even when I thought I could not love any more.
Learning to be a parent. Loving. Relearning to be a parent. And learning again.
Each child teaches me all over again what parenting means. What love means.
Each child comes with their own new hurdles that I need to learn to jump over.
ASD, ADD, PhD, everything and everyone gets a title nowadays.
Do we know to give the child what they need? More than we received? More than our parents received?
On my path there are hiccups. Little bumps that I never imagined I would need to deal with.
These bumps are what make my path.
They give meaning.
They give life.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Return to myself
Life is busy.
Life is always busy, even when there is not much going on.
We are dealing with developmental issues with a child, planning a family vacation, building a house, trying to finish up my degree and figure out what my next stage in occupation is, parenting, cleaning, pretending to pack up our apartment, watching silly TV shows, cooking, listening to podcasts, folding laundry, washing dishes, spending time with my spouse.
Life is busy. Life is good.
Busy should never be an excuse not to write.
Writing to me is the best kind of therapy. It always has been. I enjoy writing. The fact that I enjoy writing is somehow a new revelation to me. How have I not noticed this before? How have I not pushed myself to write more before now?
Life is busy. I am happy. I want to express that happiness with all the stresses that come along with it. In my path to wholeness I need to return to myself. I need to return to my writing. Writing for no purpose other than to express myself.
In my path to wholeness here I am returning to myself.
Life is always busy, even when there is not much going on.
We are dealing with developmental issues with a child, planning a family vacation, building a house, trying to finish up my degree and figure out what my next stage in occupation is, parenting, cleaning, pretending to pack up our apartment, watching silly TV shows, cooking, listening to podcasts, folding laundry, washing dishes, spending time with my spouse.
Life is busy. Life is good.
Busy should never be an excuse not to write.
Writing to me is the best kind of therapy. It always has been. I enjoy writing. The fact that I enjoy writing is somehow a new revelation to me. How have I not noticed this before? How have I not pushed myself to write more before now?
Life is busy. I am happy. I want to express that happiness with all the stresses that come along with it. In my path to wholeness I need to return to myself. I need to return to my writing. Writing for no purpose other than to express myself.
In my path to wholeness here I am returning to myself.
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