inside the mess i found some more beauty.
i found some freedom.
i discovered nourishment.
i began to realize the old story, the story i was born into, the palette of colors that fed my parents and the family they raised, could no longer apply to me and my family. that round & precious placenta that fed who i was and where i came from was no longer able to serve in that way. the safety nets had big holes, the gods took off their masks, the skin began to peel revealing the bones that define home, safety, warmth, love, nourishment and dare i say: prayer.
in this unraveling, i had to sculpt something. i had to shoot a few birds with one stone. i had to feed myself, my family, my marriage and my expression inside a new kind of survival. it no longer existed in a new pair of shoes or seasonal bed linens, it couldn't take hold inside of a family trip or a little anniversary getaway. the restart button, the release gear, the reconnection to myself had to come from within.
i sat on the porch
in the dark
with my breath.
i had no idea what i was doing. i just knew that i had to do it. i had to get up before the house got up. i had to hear my own breath; even if it lasted a second inside the noise, the fear, the fantasies. i had to go back to the breath. i had to find my way back to the breath. i had to find my way to nourishment.
o ask what nourishes me, i have to ask who am i? i have to know myself to know what i truly crave, what i want in life, what i want today. i have to make choices that align with my values, with the nutrients i need, those ingredients that reflect who i am in this moment, the story i am writing, the mother i am raising, the children i am growing.
i sat with all the people who live inside me. i sat with my body. i asked her questions.
i took notes on
a blank canvas, a cold heavy block of clay, an un-lined sheet of paper, an empty wood floor
i am listening
. i heard her fears that fueled me for so long. i let myself know that i am here now.
i am listening
all of this became prayer.
all of this, inside carpool, soccer practice, red DWP bills, family night, quesadillas, miracles.
nourishment became prayer.
::: this is part 4 in a series about home :::