I haven't written in days, maybe a month. I haven't checked recently. All I know is that I do check, and I do ponder. Constantly refelecting on my mind the ever present "coming and goings in the mind." For what you may ask? Because of who I am.
Because of how I do life. Eat, drink, sup, breathe... I reflect.
My recent reflecting is on parenting. On the overwhelming desire I have to live for Cohen and the overwhelming desire I have to walk away from it all. From the messes, from the monotonous "doings," screamings, cryings... UGH UGH UGH For what? For a moment of inquisitive understanding? Peace of mind? No. To simply BE.
To BE is terrifying. It hurts, it reaches it's bloody arms down to the depths of my soul and SCREAMS "I've got you."
I want that. I want the pain that comes with discovering who I am as a parent. No matter if it looks like how I grew up or not. Who cares... right? Right? RIGHT?
Yes. Moments of intricate despair surrounded by immense amound of love. This parenting shit is a serious business. I have no idea what I'm doing. How I'm doing it... where I'm going with it.
I pray for some sort of grace I believe I have... some sort of enlightenment that is promised to me.
Yet there I sit, alone, on a lonely dusty road waiting for someone to sweep up behind my flowing dress to tell me this simple thing:
Peace. Give me now. Give me everyday of every second of every moment.
I don't pray for an eye opening experience rather someone who meets me in the harsh winds and the unbearable heats of life.
Take me, break me.
I am yours.