Happy last week of May! (Can you believe it’s almost summer?)
The other day was my son Blais’ last day of sophomore year. Normally, his friend takes him to school, but this week I asked him to let me drive him instead. In the fall, he will be driving himself and no longer needing me.
I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I just wanted to enjoy those morning rides with him.
We talked about school, tests, cars, summer. We also rode in silence, just being present to each other.
I’d drop him off and feel melancholy, I’d feel nostalgic about the life that’s in the past.
I’d take Luna for a walk along our neighborhood’s walking path; at one beautiful section, it’s lined with tall trees that grow along our small branch of the Harpeth River. One morning, I noticed how deeply green and lush they were.
My mind recalled how pretty their baren branches looked under the winter snow just a few months ago, and how excited Blais was to go sledding with friends.
I remembered the trees’ vibrant yellows, oranges, reds during the fall before that and kids starting the school year attending classes on Zoom from home.
And I remembered the summer prior when the trees had no idea the Covid pandemic was in full swing.
Thought by thought, the trees took me back through the memories of Blais’ elementary school days, middle school, the last two years, and then forward into wondering what the next two years will be like.
My melancholy and nostalgia pulled up sadness from deep within, which I quickly reframed.
One morning, I paused to feel the gratitude for every one of life’s moments, for my sons, and for open paths before us.
These were the most beautiful five mornings and I’ll remember them for the rest of my life.
Happy last week of May! (Can you believe it’s almost summer?)
The other day was my son Blais’ last day of sophomore year. Normally, his friend takes him to school, but this week I asked him to let me drive him instead. In the fall, he will be driving himself and no longer needing me.
I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I just wanted to enjoy those morning rides with him.
We talked about school, tests, cars, summer. We also rode in silence, just being present to each other.
I’d drop him off and feel melancholy, I’d feel nostalgic about the life that’s in the past.
I’d take Luna for a walk along our neighborhood’s walking path; at one beautiful section, it’s lined with tall trees that grow along our small branch of the Harpeth River.
One morning, I noticed how deeply green and lush they were.
My mind recalled how pretty their baren branches looked under the winter snow just a few months ago, and how excited Blais was to go sledding with friends.
I remembered the trees’ vibrant yellows, oranges, reds during the fall before that and kids starting the school year attending classes on Zoom from home. And I remembered the summer prior when the trees had no idea the Covid pandemic was in full swing.
Thought by thought, the trees took me back through the memories of Blais’ elementary school days, middle school, the last two years, and then forward into wondering what the next two years will be like.
My melancholy and nostalgia pulled up sadness from deep within, which I quickly reframed.
One morning, I paused to feel the gratitude for every one of life’s moments, for my sons, and for open paths before us.
These were the most beautiful five mornings and I’ll remember them for the rest of my life.
And here is the thing: last week I told Julia (my therapist) about the ache I feel because another chapter of my life is behind me. She said: “Would you like to spend some time with the ache?” I responded fast: “Of course not! I’d much rather stay busy through it and not feel it.” We both laughed at my ‘smart’ answer. LOL.
But if I didn’t spend some time with the ache I’d miss the beauty of it. I’d miss being present to Blais in our mornings, experiencing these precious days with him, and dancing around when he returned from school yesterday.
I’d miss a chance to digest how I was feeling. It’s similar to digesting food – you have to digest it thoroughly so that your body will absorb what’s good in the food and eliminate what it doesn’t need.
Running away, busying ourselves, or jumping to the next task in order to avoid feeling the feelings robs us of experiencing the rich gifts contained in those moments. AND it accumulates in our bodies like these pockets of energy that can feel like tension, nervousness, stomach aches, etc.
Yea it feels a bit discomforting … but if we allow ourselves to feel it, the sadness and the grief for all that’s over and that we can’t have back will move through. It won’t get stuck inside. It won’t bother us.
As it flows, the love, joy, sense of fulfillment and gratitude will follow. Instead of stuck grief pilling up and causing that feeling of unrest, we will experience peace.
Peace like a beautiful May morning.
Speaking of chapters of life – I finished my memoir proposal and got a literary agent (Morris Literary and Entertainment) to represent it and pitch it to the publishers! I’m super excited.
And here is the thing: last week I told Julia (my therapist) about the ache I feel because another chapter of my life is behind me. She said: “Would you like to spend some time with the ache?” I responded fast: “Of course not! I’d much rather stay busy through it and not feel it.” We both laughed at my ‘smart’ answer. LOL.
But if I didn’t spend some time with the ache I’d miss the beauty of it. I’d miss being present to Blais in our mornings, experiencing these precious days with him, and dancing around when he returned from school yesterday.
I’d miss a chance to digest how I was feeling. It’s similar to digesting food – you have to digest it thoroughly so that your body will absorb what’s good in the food and eliminate what it doesn’t need.
Running away, busying ourselves, or jumping to the next task in order to avoid feeling the feelings robs us of experiencing the rich gifts contained in those moments. AND it accumulates in our bodies like these pockets of energy that can feel like tension, nervousness, stomach aches, etc.
Yea it feels a bit discomforting … but if we allow ourselves to feel it, the sadness and the grief for all that’s over and that we can’t have back will move through. It won’t get stuck inside. It won’t bother us.
As it flows, the love, joy, sense of fulfillment and gratitude will follow. Instead of stuck grief pilling up and causing that feeling of unrest, we will experience peace.
Peace like a beautiful May morning.
Speaking of chapters of life – I finished my memoir proposal and got a literary agent (Morris Literary and Entertainment) to represent it and pitch it to the publishers! I’m super excited.
Music
In lieu of a song, here is our show from last Saturday!
It was amazing and right away I got someone asking if we could produce a whole series of those for a TV channel! Fun fun fun!
In lieu of a song, here is our show from last Saturday!
It was amazing and right away I got someone asking if we could produce a whole series of those for a TV channel! Fun fun fun!
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Let music+story+coaching help you figure out
AND live your dream life.
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event updates directly to your inbox.