[et_pb_section bb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”3.0.47″][et_pb_row _builder_version=”3.0.47″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text _builder_version=”3.0.98″ text_font_size=”18px” background_layout=”light”]<\/p>\n
We were running late. Still, I pressed \u2018Pause\u2019 to kiss my boys goodbye and watch them leave for school. (I wrote about \u2018pressing pause\u2019 in last week\u2019s newsletter.<\/p>\n
Evan gave me a hug that without words said: \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Mama, we\u2019ll be OK.\u201d He got into his car and drove away.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll see you Monday evening. Text me and call me anytime!\u201d I shouted to Blais before the doors closed behind him.<\/p>\n
I had talked to them about whom to call in case of an emergency and left them a little note reminding them to wash the dishes and wipe off the kitchen counters daily. This was the first time I was leaving them alone while I went out of town for work. Alone. No family or friends to stay in the house with them. \u201cWe have two drivers and two credit cards,\u201d they said as they made plans on which healthy takeout food they\u2019ll order while I\u2019m gone.<\/p>\n
David Langley, who is playing Christmas concerts with me, was already waiting in the car. \u201cHe understands how important this is,\u201d I thought as I went upstairs and knocked on Dante\u2019s door. I didn\u2019t expect him to be up. After all, he is home on a college break.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are leaving?\u201d he asked as I cupped his face in my hands like I used to do when he was a tiny toddler, and as I still do every time we part. I kissed his cheek, \u201cSee you Monday night. Thank you for being so responsible and helping me out this weekend.\u201d<\/p>\n
I rushed downstairs and remembered one more thing (well, three actually): I put the string of Christmas lights in the living room on a timer; started the dishwasher and placed an Advent Calendar on the kitchen counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis will make them smile\u201d I thought as a wave of sadness mixed with gratitude and nostalgia formed somewhere in my core, tightened my abs, my chest, my throat and squeezed itself out through my tear ducts.<\/p>\n
I pulled a magic marker out of the \u2018everything drawer\u2019 and wrote on the plastic cover of the chocolate-filled calendar box: Start on Sunday! I wanted to add something about switching days and including me on the list, but I changed my mind. They are still my little boys. And I have my own Advent Calendar of Gifts that keep on giving\u2026<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath. A breath of gratitude. Then I left.
\n\u201cLet\u2019s go!\u201d I told David, who was calmly waiting for me. But before I got into the car, I ran to the mailbox and pulled out a pile of holiday catalogs and bills (bills are good for redirecting anxiety, although I do not recommend that method \ud83d\ude42<\/p>\n
The first thing I opened had a quote by Walt Whitman: \u201cWill you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?\u201d (from \u201cSong of the Open Road\u201d)
\nI Googled the rest of it (I used to read a lot of poetry and always enjoyed Whitman)\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cAfoot and lighthearted I take to the open road,<\/strong> Right there before me were eight hours of open road, of \u2018pause\u2019 from chores and everyday worries: a lot of time to take a journey inward and reflect\u2026<\/p>\n I thought how every journey starts with leaving \u2013 something, somewhere or someone behind. It starts with goodbyes and tears and fear of the unknown.<\/p>\n Every journey starts with our willingness to trust that the unknown path ahead is as safe and filled with grace and love as is the memory of all that brought us to this point.<\/p>\n And even though staying wrapped in a blanket of the familiar might be a lot more appealing, I hope today (and every day) you can journey a little bit further into the depths of you. I hope today (and each day of the Advent) you can journey a little bit deeper into compassion and love.<\/p>\n CONNECT WITH ME<\/strong><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_code _builder_version=”3.0.98″ text_orientation=”center” custom_margin=”|||370px”][et_social_follow icon_style=”flip” icon_shape=”rounded” icons_location=”top” col_number=”auto” outer_color=”dark”][\/et_pb_code][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”3.0.98″][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_code _builder_version=”3.0.98″][inf_infusionsoft_inline optin_id=”optin_5″][\/et_pb_code][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" [et_pb_section bb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”3.0.47″][et_pb_row _builder_version=”3.0.47″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text _builder_version=”3.0.98″ text_font_size=”18px” background_layout=”light”] We were running late. Still, I pressed \u2018Pause\u2019 to kiss my boys goodbye and watch them leave for school. (I wrote about \u2018pressing pause\u2019 in last week\u2019s newsletter. Evan gave me a hug that without words said: \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Mama, we\u2019ll be OK.\u201d He […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1439,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":" When I was little, I loved to write in my journal. I\u2019d write for hours, cut little butterflies and hearts out of magazines and paste them into my diary. Thinking back on it, it seems like the world was on hold while I wrote and reflected on my experiences, or when I wrote about my goals, hopes and dreams. <\/span><\/p> I still love to write in my journal. And I often cut out doodles I find on my kids\u2019 homework and paste them in there. I find it very, very therapeutic. :) But I have no illusion that the world is standing still for me. And, it isn\u2019t of course\u2026 People depend on me to deliver work, my kids depend on me to provide food and shelter, and every day a hundred little tasks quickly pile up if I take too much time off. <\/span><\/p> This weekend between Thanksgiving and the beginning of Advent (25 days before Christmas) is such a great time to press \u201cpause\u201d to reflect back on the year and get ready for the holidays. And yes, decorating our houses is a part of \u2018getting ready,\u2019 but the \u2018inner cleanup\u2019 is more important.\u201d <\/b><\/p> One way to do that is to identify what\u2019s preventing us from being present and calm. <\/span><\/p> Sometimes it\u2019s something we can easily \u2018fix\u2019 by making intentional changes\u2026 (like if I get impatient or frustrated easily, I look at my sleep patterns and my diet - and make appropriate changes). More often it\u2019s some deeper emotional pain that will take more time to heal, like dealing with grief. When it comes, I give myself permission to feel it, but I then let go of it. And I let go of it by focusing on something in my immediate surroundings for which I am grateful.<\/span><\/p> Even just the intent to do this \u2018inner cleanup\u2019 changes the way I feel - and it helps me to be more open to receive the graces and gifts of the sacred season ahead of us. And the very act of reflecting (and journaling) does \u2018pause\u2019 all that\u2019s less important and puts all of the overwhelming rushing around in a different perspective. <\/span><\/p>
\nHealthy, free, the world before me\u2026.<\/strong>
\n\u2026Strong and content I travel the open road.\u201d<\/strong>
\n\u201c(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,\u2026<\/strong>
\n\u2026I carry them with me wherever I go\u2026<\/strong>
\n\u2026 I\u2019m fill\u2019d with them, and I will fill them in return)\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n