Many years ago, I began a blog entitled just this. It was the healing path that I needed to best serve my family through several “complicated” years. Now, as I re-establish my voice here on Mamoga.com, I find myself in the least complicated space of my life thus far. A place where peace is all around (and on) me. Yet, at times it is still nowhere to be found. The dysfunction of simplicity.
As I type (one-handed, of course), I’m snuggled between two of God’s most precious babes. Simple and sweet children that notice the moment that mama is off her a-game. For example, after 12 hours of “work” caring for both of them, I asked my oldest if I might have five minutes of quiet. He obliged with a 30 second reprieve from the why’s. Moments of peace woven into the longest. day. ever.
But I wouldn’t trade these days for anything. Days when peace is reading alongside my child – each of us our own book – and squishing hands into a bowl of bean flour. Days when physical movement is laced with the memory and twinges of an almost-absent, sometimes aggravated back injury that took me from living in my mind to living in my body.
It all comes back to movement. Movement creating space. Space creating presence. Presence welcoming peace. There will be days when movement seems impossible. Nothing is impossible. Move. Peace must be picked up. You must bear witness to flow and life. It won’t fall down from the heavens into hands unopened.
Movement reflection: One of my favorite postures in yoga is Breath of Joy. Standing or in easy pose (sitting), raise your arms with palms open to the sky. Breathe in while doing this. Exhale, moving arms palms-down towards the earth. Take in the peace you are offered. Give up anything you don’t need. There isn’t room in your body for both fear and love. So, choose love and find peace.