I've been going through some intense transitions with all this moving. A huge part of that has been really understanding that our adoption is at least a year if not 2 away (or more). I have been shifting from being future focused (when we sell our house.../when we move.../when we adopt...) to being present focused (right now we can bike/craft/play/study/make music/dance/be part of our community/put down roots/home school passionately) Its a major shift for me because for so long it has been the other way. For so long we worked on our home and put our energy towards our vision of the future while manifesting the now. Now we are renting. Now there is no house that requires all of our time and money. Now we have time...
So, the point of the story...so goose-pimply profound.
When I was in Vancouver at the Birthing from Within Workshop I got the stomach flu (on the last day). My mind was full and whirling with thoughts of our children, our new home, the now, teaching birth classes/doing doula work. I was thinking so much about the transitions I was experiencing as a mother. How I would not be a pregnant women again. That my baby would wean himself with in the next year or so and that I wouldn't nurse again until we adopt. I was NOT focused on thoughts of Ethiopia, our children, adoption. (well, not obsessively anyway...it might have come up once or twice ☺) Partially consciously and then unconsciously.
On my last night in Vancouver I was feeling really trapped. The little basement suite that I was staying in was stuffy and musty so I decided to go for a walk to get some fresh air (this was before I realized that I had the stomach flu). So I'm walking...down the busy city streets...all the sounds, all the smells, and I realize that I haven't been looking at anything...just the ground. So I start looking in the Windows of the shops as I pass. After a while I realize that I've only looked to my left and that there's a whole other side to the street so my gaze crosses the road.....and settles directly on and Ethiopian restaurant!! I stop dead in my tracks. process...do I go in? do I order something and take it back? do I continue to stand here staring like a crazy women? I was so sick, so overwhelmed with being away from my family...I was not prepared to be brought into this very intense head space...my heart is hammering like crazy because, didn't I just decide that I was going to live in the now?? So, I choose to keep walking. Shake my head a few times...take a few deep breathes....keep walking. Live in the now...let go of something that is, at this point, so very far away.
So, the point of the story...so goose-pimply profound.
When I was in Vancouver at the Birthing from Within Workshop I got the stomach flu (on the last day). My mind was full and whirling with thoughts of our children, our new home, the now, teaching birth classes/doing doula work. I was thinking so much about the transitions I was experiencing as a mother. How I would not be a pregnant women again. That my baby would wean himself with in the next year or so and that I wouldn't nurse again until we adopt. I was NOT focused on thoughts of Ethiopia, our children, adoption. (well, not obsessively anyway...it might have come up once or twice ☺) Partially consciously and then unconsciously.
On my last night in Vancouver I was feeling really trapped. The little basement suite that I was staying in was stuffy and musty so I decided to go for a walk to get some fresh air (this was before I realized that I had the stomach flu). So I'm walking...down the busy city streets...all the sounds, all the smells, and I realize that I haven't been looking at anything...just the ground. So I start looking in the Windows of the shops as I pass. After a while I realize that I've only looked to my left and that there's a whole other side to the street so my gaze crosses the road.....and settles directly on and Ethiopian restaurant!! I stop dead in my tracks. process...do I go in? do I order something and take it back? do I continue to stand here staring like a crazy women? I was so sick, so overwhelmed with being away from my family...I was not prepared to be brought into this very intense head space...my heart is hammering like crazy because, didn't I just decide that I was going to live in the now?? So, I choose to keep walking. Shake my head a few times...take a few deep breathes....keep walking. Live in the now...let go of something that is, at this point, so very far away.
Ahead I see I beautiful mural painted on the side of a building....full of color, bursting with life energy in the middle of the sketchy east side. An Oasis...light in a very dark place.
I decide that I'm going to go check it out before I head back. So I do. I stop and let the beauty of it fill me. I'm feeling inspired. Feeling purpose full. As my eyes dance across the vast piece of magic a glint of brass catches, attracts me. I step closer, realizing that it is a plac describing what the mural is about.
I step closer still, read the words.
I see the word Orphan....
My lungs seem to have forgotten how to breathe. I gasp and it comes out as a choking sob. I break down. There on a street corner in busy downtown Vancouver I fall apart. Completely.
Maybe it was because I was so sick. Maybe it was because I missed my family so much and felt so oddly separated form my life. But this? this brought me right back to the center of this dream...this vision that I have had since I was tiny, that has been a huge focus for so many moons.
Here, away from everything that is familiar to me, I heard our children. I saw them dance across my vision. I felt them so intensely that I thought I might explode. I felt our family. The whole, the complete, the joy and pain of all of our facets that make us US. The threads that create our tapestry....the words that create our story. The punctuation.
Remember to breathe.....
Eventually my feet start moving again. The tears keep rolling. I take a back street until my face begins to resemble something reminiscent of normal.
I return to the wee basement suite. I continue on with being sick...my mind whirling in a whole new way (or old way, depending on your perspective) Somehow, the next day, I make it home. driving 5 hours solo with the stomach flu: not recommended!
So here I am now. 2 weeks later. Processing my trip, the workshop (which was amazing in many ways). Realizing that being away from my family is not something I'm willing to do again. (Its just not worth it to me....and worthy of a whole separate post!)
I am understanding that there is no "back shelf" in my mind that I can place my passion for Ethiopia and our children on. No "back burner" that would ever be sufficient to simmer this while I focus on other things. I have come to understand that this is so much a part of me that I need to have it as part of my life, even if we don't adopt for 5 years...or 10 years....or 6 months! That time frame is something I need to surrender, the control over that....surrender the need to control. I need to embrace my faith that when the time is right, when we are ready, when our children are ready it WILL happen.
wow....not what I was expecting to get out of that weekend!! And somehow all the whirling that has been going on in my mind since we began our move seems to be no more then a breeze. A breeze that touches my cheek and reminds me of who I am...no matter where we live.
I am so very thankful.
I decide that I'm going to go check it out before I head back. So I do. I stop and let the beauty of it fill me. I'm feeling inspired. Feeling purpose full. As my eyes dance across the vast piece of magic a glint of brass catches, attracts me. I step closer, realizing that it is a plac describing what the mural is about.
I step closer still, read the words.
I see the word Orphan....
My lungs seem to have forgotten how to breathe. I gasp and it comes out as a choking sob. I break down. There on a street corner in busy downtown Vancouver I fall apart. Completely.
Maybe it was because I was so sick. Maybe it was because I missed my family so much and felt so oddly separated form my life. But this? this brought me right back to the center of this dream...this vision that I have had since I was tiny, that has been a huge focus for so many moons.
Here, away from everything that is familiar to me, I heard our children. I saw them dance across my vision. I felt them so intensely that I thought I might explode. I felt our family. The whole, the complete, the joy and pain of all of our facets that make us US. The threads that create our tapestry....the words that create our story. The punctuation.
Remember to breathe.....
Eventually my feet start moving again. The tears keep rolling. I take a back street until my face begins to resemble something reminiscent of normal.
I return to the wee basement suite. I continue on with being sick...my mind whirling in a whole new way (or old way, depending on your perspective) Somehow, the next day, I make it home. driving 5 hours solo with the stomach flu: not recommended!
So here I am now. 2 weeks later. Processing my trip, the workshop (which was amazing in many ways). Realizing that being away from my family is not something I'm willing to do again. (Its just not worth it to me....and worthy of a whole separate post!)
I am understanding that there is no "back shelf" in my mind that I can place my passion for Ethiopia and our children on. No "back burner" that would ever be sufficient to simmer this while I focus on other things. I have come to understand that this is so much a part of me that I need to have it as part of my life, even if we don't adopt for 5 years...or 10 years....or 6 months! That time frame is something I need to surrender, the control over that....surrender the need to control. I need to embrace my faith that when the time is right, when we are ready, when our children are ready it WILL happen.
wow....not what I was expecting to get out of that weekend!! And somehow all the whirling that has been going on in my mind since we began our move seems to be no more then a breeze. A breeze that touches my cheek and reminds me of who I am...no matter where we live.
I am so very thankful.
(this is the mural, although when I saw it it was cradled in the dark of night)
