dreams of a mama bear

J U L Y 2 , 2 0 1 6

alice: "how long is forever?" // white rabbit: "sometimes just one second."

j u l y i s h e r e .

high summer steeped in warm golden sunlight, the bioluminescent glow of fireflies in the meadow at dusk, and the sweet serenade of cicadas // moisture in the air.

my rainbow sunbeam daughter’s birth month. (big things happen to me in july.)

monumental change, monarch metamorphosis, buds bursting into bloom.

this year holds a contrast of feeling ::

~~ rejoicing in what is! my children are bright deep wise visionary. so many things i’ve done really, really well as their mama (i feel grateful, amazed, so in love).

~~ and… there’s a yearning. a starry-eyed hopefulness for what could be better, more refined, more wholesome // eternal devotion to my growth, transformation, expansion.

feeling into *all* the things I want to be and do that haven’t come to fruition yet. 💭🌈🌱

the beauty and burden of being a parent (human?) is that there is always more growth to be had. our potential is boundless, multi-dimensional, inexhaustible, vast. we all want to give them the best that’s inside us. what we do, yes. but more so what we are. presence. connection. slowness. acceptance. love love love.

who does this mama bear wish to be for her cubs? how does she want her family to move // to feel?

visions \ affirmations of what’s to come…

i release expectations + projections of my children, and fully embrace the truth + completeness that they already are. (devoted to witnessing inherent worth:: intrinsic value)

i drop whatever i’m doing when they engage with me ((practice what you preach as you write, mama, they’re calling your name)). i give them my undivided attention.

i practice not merely looking at them, but seeing into them. the color of their irises, their animated body language, the subtle changes in their faces when they speak. i gather these moments in my arms like precious treasure. i fold them up and put them in pocket for safe keeping. i take them out often to remember. remember. remember.

i explain less and ask so much more. tell me, tell me, tell me. i’m dying to know what lights you up, what feels true, what makes you blue. sometimes when you don’t want to talk about it i say “what if i just listen and don’t say a single word in response?” and then you fall open and pour yourself out.

i teach them to hear the whisper of their spirit, to recognize the magical pull of intuition and give their entireness to it like a backwards dive off the cliffs of faith. i teach them that following their heart is the most important thing they can ever learn to do. that when the mind can’t see, the heart glows in the dark. “trust yourself. trust your insight. feel your goodness. never forget your ability to instantly know what’s right and good and true for you.”

there’s more silence and stillness together, observing and simply being present. quaker meetings taught me that shared silence amplifies the sermon. the quiet hums with aliveness. it’s simple, it’s radical. silence roots us to now, expands our sensory apertures, fosters greater tolerance. it’s a nourishing soul balm for this introverted self-sourcing mama.

we ramble through the wide wild world, climbing mountains, fording streams, following rainbows, chasing dreams.

we get dirty, dangle upside down, spin cartwheels, nap in mountain meadows and weave wildflowers into hair.

we wake in the dark to hike to where the dawn breaks. climbing trees. swimming naked in ice cold glacier river water\ letting it take our breath away.

less focused on their future, more in awe of their present.

thoughts, feelings and actions driven by love and faith, instead of fear or doubt. return again and again to trust and visionary hope.

saying yes -- all the time, as much as possible, to anything we can.

celebrating, rejoicing, ceremonializing life. “the temple appears wherever we are. ceremony is contact improv with everything around you.”

honoring feelings, fully embracing all sides of this dynamic human experience. messy. raw. real. true.

beloved rites of passage marking the turning wheel of time. we see you. we honor you. we celebrate and support and uplift you. time is a spiral dance. “they’re captive on a carousel of time. they can’t return, they can only look behind from where they came, and go round and round and round in a circle game.”

showing them how to feel comfortable in their skin. you are here. you are whole. you are holy. you so deeply belong -- on this planet, in this place, in this body, in this moment. let fierce courage drop you down deep into embodied presence. be with what is here now. be yourself.

love and honor and treasure and care for your body. “this is an expression of gratitude to the whole cosmos.” it’s the only spacesuit you’ll get… wear it well and it will take you far 💫

your parents will show you how to breathe and flow through sticky situations with grace, unwavering groundedness, compassion, and an undying devotion to truth and resolution. we’ll also show you how to get carried away beneath the currents of upset, lose your cool, make mistakes, create regret. then pick up the pieces and put it all back together into something new \ something more refined.

we’re becoming better animals together. exploring stewarding adoring the earth.

we read & read & read together everyday. voyaging. visioning. learning through story. living through myth.

our home is a beacon of light, exploding with creative energy – overflowing with music, art, color, expression::
plant life, nourishing food, homegrown medicine,
crafts, magical treasures, song & dance, storytelling, passion, imagination. 

we never stop giving thanks.

we’re mindful, joyous, oh-so-grateful,
inspired, strong, bright-eyed, open-hearted
f r e e

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