A Summer Tornado

downloadThe end of summer feels a bit like wandering through the aftermath of a natural disaster.  I mentally move from room to room, assessing all the damage that has been done after several months at home with five kids, mainly my autistic son.  A broken window in the basement…door jamb plates that have been sneakily unscrewed at some point to avoid “room time…” a broken lamp and glass candlestick in the storage that I’ve known about, but somehow, just can’t conjure up the energy to clean…broken glass tabletops from angry, slamming spoons as well as from the time he was “pretending” to throw a chair and slipped…broken doors and doorknobs (oh Lord, so many broken doors)…a garage door that won’t shut, a front door that won’t open…railings that have been ripped out of place…the list goes on and on…

And then there’s the internal inventory…everything I set out to do this summer, everything I hoped to be and do and just ran out of steam. Everywhere I look seems to be a reminder of my failures and shortcomings.  And it feels a bit overwhelming…a lot overwhelming, actually.  I basically want to pack it all up (or just leave it all behind) and move to Montana (or anywhere).

And tomorrow, he starts middle school.  My stomach hasn’t stopped churning since I realized how close the start of school was (a combination of sheer dread and simultaneous elation)!  I remember leaving him at preschool…I guess it was more like peeling him off of me and sprinting out the door…and this kind of feels like that.  I am always afraid of him feeling afraid, of him feeling lonely, of someone being unkind, of me not being there for him.

But in the daily midst of struggling to just breathe and not suffocate, a bright thought sneaks into my darkness.  My 16 year old son, who was standing on a teetering precipice, spent the summer fishing instead of partying, all day every day.  He came home happy at night and actually talked to us and laughed with us!  My daughter spent 5 weeks in Florida helping family take care of a household with 4 small children.  Last night, I sat up until midnight with my 13 year old son and 3 of his precious, giggling, hilarious friends as they tried to learn how to use chopsticks (and or course broke more glass in the process)!  My youngest daughter is still asleep with a friend in a fort they worked until midnight…and not a single electronic device was involved!!

I woke up this morning reminded (yet again) of the messiness and complexity of life.  I constantly feel like my life is either on the brink of a tragic catastrophe or sheer paradise.  They are both true, I think.  Every breath holds within it the potential for suffering and misfortune, as well as peace and prosperity.  But sometimes it is not so obvious which is which. Most days, I am incapable of discerning what events will lead to my downfall or my salvation. It all blends together in one chaotic, jumbled mess.  Perhaps it is all one in the same.  At times, I can’t see through my tears.  But on any given day, they might be tears of heartache or tears of laughter.  Life seems to be one huge contradiction.  It is concurrently chaotic and monotonous, sorrowful and joyful, dreadful and wonderful.

It’s pretty hard to hide and yet at the same time, hard to admit…I’m a mess, my kids are a mess, my home is a mess.  But I guess it’s the mess that makes us human, that makes us vulnerable and that humbles and refines us.  I can’t say that I always appreciate it, that I don’t at times try to close my eyes and make it all disappear.  But on better days, I can at least accept this beautiful mess called life…

 

 

 

 

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Living Seasonally

live-in-each-season-1024x1024I’ve spent the last few months with blinders on…not the blindfold type of blinders that prevent you from seeing, but more like the type they put on horses to keep them focused on what is ahead of them.  Life all of a sudden got really hard, and really good, and really busy, all at the same time.  Kind of like a whirlwind introduction to teenagers, owning your own business, husband starting a business kind of boot camp.  I laugh/cringe because this is just the way I operate…when things get hard, I get small and go inward.  When I was delivering my first son, I basically kicked everyone out (and down the hall so I couldn’t even hear their voices), and my poor husband who took all those crazy classes with me didn’t even have a chance to put his newfound knowledge to work from his chair in the corner.  I had to be fully alone and present with myself to focus and complete the task at hand.  So I’ve spent the last few months in my “internal cocoon…” possibly socially isolated and emotionally withdrawn, although I don’t know how I appear to others.  I haven’t been upset, I’ve just had to focus on getting through a challenging time and I do my best work alone.

I planned and pushed with fervency to wrap up as many jobs as possible so that I could be home with my kids for the summer.  And then…it was summer.  But to my complete surprise (and delight), the summer that normally devours me like a consuming tornado, has meandered in peacefully and silently, observed by the wonderful cessation of marking time and checking off to-do lists.  I did reverse psychology on myself by getting so busy, that summer now seems slow in comparison (I must be smarter than I thought to be able to trick myself)!  My oldest boys literally fish from sun-up to sun-down and my daughter is in Florida helping family.  I have gone from having 5 seemingly co-dependent children to feeling like I only have 2!  My days have transitioned from non-stop movement, to coffee (with refills!) on the patio in the company of a good book.

Throughout the course of the last few months, I am reminded that the struggles and busy-ness of life can function as a splinter.  They can cause irritation and sometimes outright pain, but the second they are removed, the relief gives way to a newfound joy and appreciation.  Although I am a regrettably slow learner, I am beginning to posses with certainty the belief that every stage of life is good (even the hard ones) and can offer new opportunities for gratitude.  I have loved being busy and creative and working, but I also love letting my brain rest and “just” being a mom.  We can go through life, constantly looking anxiously ahead to the next phase, or we can learn to suck the marrow out of the here and now.  I have done plenty of looking ahead.  I long to improve upon cherishing the present.

I am also (finally) beginning the grasp the importance of living seasonally.  Earlier in life, I strived and worked incessantly.  I felt lazy if I stopped to rest.  Yet when we frantically press on and on (even in positive, fun times) without diversity or change in pace, we quickly run out of steam and live a dreary life of monotony.  There must be times of ebb and flow, work and rest, tears and laughter, suffering and joy.  I am learning to heed and embrace the literal seasons of nature for life cues…the long, slow spread of summer days, the solitude and silence of winter, the invigoration of spring and the calming crispness of fall.  I’m even attempting to eat seasonal foods to provide for varying physical needs throughout the year.  I’m trying to fight less against life, and instead receive with open hands of gratitude each twist of events that life presents.  In doing so, I am learning to trust more deeply and authentically.  Hindsight is always 20/20 and the longer I live, the more I can look back over the threads of time to see how my life is being expertly woven.  I am seeing with greater clarity that I can breathe and lean fully into a life of trusting God, nature, and myself.

Living seasonally is nothing new.  It is, in fact, ancient and old and wise.  I, however am not.  But perhaps through the symbiotic relationship of internal intuition and nature’s external prompting, I can settle in to a rhythmic sort of journey that will lead to a full, healthy and long existence.  Life is hard.  But it’s also really, really beautiful.  I want to make the CHOICE to savor the sweetness of life, instead of dwelling on it’s bitter moments.  Cheers to summer…My new art purchase...