Today at schoolIt's been a long time. If blog sites could collect dust this one would be inches thick and covered with cobwebs. Gotta say, it's one of the things I love about the internet -- it doesn't matter how much neglect or laziness, you can always jump back in with no cleaning involved!
Such a weird feeling coming back here after so many years. These posts almost feel like another lifetime ago. From an almost distant part of me. Of course I'm still the same person. I read these words and instantly recognize my voice. The deepest part of me. I must admit though, this isn't my first time back. Once every couple years around this time, usually on a night I can't sleep or a random google search on my computer that thinks it's for this site will lead me here. Like a faraway place, once I'm there. I'm captivated. I'm all in. It hurts so good. It's a gateway into a life we almost lived. Like visiting an ancient ruin. There was life here once.
I originally started this blog with the intention of sharing our adventures of living in Turkey and then it quickly evolved to sharing about our 3rd child, Judah - when neither came to fruition in the way I had imagined, it just felt odd to continue and rebuild from this foundation.
But, like the Great Rumi poet says, "the wound is the place the Light enters you."
We experienced not only the warmth and security of Light but also the illumination of a new path shortly after these 'deaths'. It was the part of my journey that I needed to unfold by myself. For so many years we had done what was expected of us. Everything in my life as a matter-of-fact was 'planned' based on who I thought I should be and not entirely on who I was made to be. I hope that makes sense.
And then all of a sudden there was no direction. I felt lost. The only invitation that came out of that season was to just learn how To Be. In the present. And not in a way that was building for something else more grand in the faraway future. I didn't quite know how to process that out loud but to just open my hands and receive it. My daily bread. My grateful portion. I wanted to make my moments last. I wanted to rediscover who I was.
Grief, for a time, took away my far-sighted vision. It helped me to see more clearly what was right in front of me. Readjust the lens to focus more on today. Instead of tomorrows.
So, why am I here now? For the past several months I've been receiving, through Facebook, the "On This Day" update. I'm pretty sure everyone with a facebook account gets this update. We live in a world of massive inflow of information. Most of it is 'filler' stuff to keep us distracted from the present, the future, the task-at-hand. We refer to it as "news". All in all we are constantly processing, filtering, evolving and being pushed along like the tide.
As I've said before, I live in the future. Because of this sometimes irritating part of my personality I have a tendency to move on quickly; giving my whole heart to something only to change directions when a fresh wave of inspiration takes me somewhere else. This daily notification has put a wrench in this mode of thinking. I see patterns now. Seasonal and situational. Chosen beautiful moments shared. Dis-jointed through time. How quickly the years run together. Over the past several weeks, almost daily, I've been receiving updates from that time many moons ago where I carried my 3rd Miracle in my belly. He had my whole heart and filled my world with so much wonder and change. As I've been, in a way, reliving that time while going through my daily motions I realize how many layers we carry. Everyday we are new. How infinitely we are changed by the fusion of past & present -- they are the Truths we carry. We don't forget the pains and pleasures of yesterday, we integrate and allow them to transform us and make us what we are today.
The love I have for my Judah and all that he represented for our life is as big as the space that each of my other three children hold. He was our game-changer. He broke us, maybe for the better, i don't know, but Life after him somehow seemed more acutely real and more meaningful. That's what loss does. In all it's cruelness, it causes us to view life as incredibly precious. Life afterwards is just different. It reminds us to hold on to what we actually have. That we only get one shot at it. Each day is a gift. It says, in one hand Hold On but in the other hand Open Up & Lift Up into the sky. We're promised many good things but not tomorrow. And if you're someone like me that waits for tomorrow, you can really miss out.
Today I'm thinking about Judah. Past, Present, Future. He's in the fabric of it all. Our life is not just the now and not yet. Almost all of what we experience today and tomorrow is a direct result of On This Days from our past. Dwelling on the past can be dangerous but it's so good to reflect and remember what brought us here today. The people that touch our lives, the choices (continually) made or (continually) not made, the opportunities (continually) taken or (continually) passed up - that's all real. It stays with us. It's what we are today. Judah Aslan would have been 6 years old. But I don't think of him that way. I think of him exactly as he was and always will be -- my most precious PRESENT.
Now is what we are given.
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