I can’t say I was ready for this…

I’ve got a super vulnerable blog coming at ya today. A lot of honest to goodness truth that needed to come forth.

Moving to TN and being in this beautiful new place has not just opened us up to more space, adventure and new experiences, but it’s also opened up places in our son’s life that were buried or managing to stay just a little more hidden in the shadows. Moving out of the comfort of routine and safety of the familiar, unearthed what was just under the surface waiting to burst through. In turn, I can say, it has also unearthed parts of myself that also, like it or not, have not been parts I wanted to see.

I can’t say I was ready for it. Nope. I definitely was not. Being in acceptance and navigating the unexpected and slowly embracing all the parts, is leading me in new directions. Down new roads.

I’ve been resisting these new roads. I had a road. I was on my path and going down that road until I came upon an unexpected detour. A lot of unexpected. A lot of unknown.

All the unknown, all the unrest and the unexpected has rocked my world, turned it upside down and and laid me out. There have been days where I couldn’t get my breath, where I felt as if everything was now nothing I recognized.

Where was this going? Where would I end up? Nothing looked familiar. Not my surroundings, not my situation, my level of control or imagined control. It was all upside down and turned around until nothing looked like it should or I imagined it should.

New doubts began to arise in me daily.

Who am I to do this? Who am I to take this journey without knowing where it leads?

This is not what I signed up for.

All my buttons have been pushed. It’s as if my mind and body have alarms going off warning me it’s about to blow.Emergency. Get help or be taken out.

Everything upended and splayed out for me to see. All my fears, my own anxiety that I pushed away, my beliefs about myself and my role, my associations, my definitions, my ideas of success. Everything laid bare to be seen and combed through.

Some days, to be honest, it feels like slugging through quicksand. Other days it feels like fear so great my heart will seize and my breath will stop.

None of these things are parts of myself I wanted to experience, to see, to embrace, to feel, to walk through.

The stress, the worry, the warrior mama part of me, the brave me, the courageous me, the human in me who wants to control what is happening. All of these are parts of me. Some good, some not, but all trying so hard to protect myself and my child from all he’s going through.

I realized once again that to come from a place of love, all of these parts had to be embraced.

Like a loving embrace, I have to hold them all with love and care, not judgement.

As I slowly hold them, the judgment of myself and my not so lovely parts, I slowly awaken to the goodness in all of myself. My light is able to flicker and return because I’ve welcomed, I’ve allowed the darkness to come and be.

God, it’s uncomfortable. It hurts. It’s scary. It’s also real and necessary and it will move me through to the other side. It may not happen on my time. It may not be pretty. It may not be what I expected, but it will be what it is. I can be there for the messy, beautiful journey, or numb out to the pain and miss the journey.

I’m choosing to once again suit up and take this new road. I don’t expect it will be easy. In fact, I know it won’t. The best things never are. It will require dedication, faith, intuition, hard work, a lot of surrender and a daily trusting moment by moment. It will require patience, openness and a willingness to allow what is.

It will require taking on the qualities of the flower that graces my garden with its openness and beauty and acceptance of what is. It opens to what is and doesn’t resist its time of growth. It opens to the sun and shows its color, its beauty, and even evokes a playfulness in the midst of the uncertainty of the natural world. The wind that comes, the rain that pours, the creatures that trample its petals. It remains open, with color, with triumph, with grace, not resisting what is, in the midst of this wild natural world it lives in.

In this tumultuous time in my life, as I navigate this new road with a son who is showing me and teaching me everyday that nothing in life is certain – that I most certainly cannot control it and that I must remain open to what is unfolding – I will keep showing up.

Everything in my life is pointing me in directions that I must follow with uncertainty and faith.

That is what I will keep sharing here. I will share this journey as a mother navigating this life with three, beautiful, brilliant, sons and one of those sons who experiences life differently and learns differently than most, who is sensitive to life’s noise and hurts and unknowns, and who needs extra care to manage living in the world.

I will share the ups and the downs because I gave up perfectionism and keep learning to give it up every day when it wants to return.

I will continue to share my journey because I know how many other warrior mamas are out there going on this same journey. Your journey might look different in the details, but I bet it’s a journey that still requires a deeper level of being, of letting go, of showing up when it’s hard, with so many unknowns.

My resolve to support other mothers to continue to connect in deeper ways to what they need body, mind and spirit, so they can show up powerfully for themselves and those they love has grown tenfold.

Together, we can and we will find our way.

I hope you will continue to come along with me on this journey. You are never alone.