Blessings.

I used to be really bothered by people who would say, "God bless you" to me or to/about little one #1. I always felt defensive about it- "who r u to bless me?"- and also thought, "what if someone doesnt believe in God?  Isn't this a bit presumptuous?" I heard it A LOT when little one #1 was born. Yesterday as I was watching her slide down the big slide at the park, the momma next to me said, "She's beautiful, God bless her.  And God bless your little new one."  It was at that very moment I realized it no longer bothered me.  I actually much appreciated it.  I smiled and thanked her because I felt very warmed by the sentiment.  If there is something we all need in this crazy place, it is blessings- from God, from each other, from within ourselves.  To hear a stranger wish us blessings no longer feels annoying.  Now- with two small children- it feels very special and significant.

At bedtime, with my children at either side of me, I couldn't stop thinking "Why did you come back?"  Especially about my newborn who can't yet control his movements, has no words for his emotions, and is having his first experience of being sick with a cold in his tiny little body.  I sobbed and felt helpless.  I thought, "Why did you come to me?...  What do I know about anything?  Most days this universe feels too big for me to understand.  What can I teach you?  Why me?"  And within all that wondering and confusion, a sense of honor and reverence overwhelmed me and I began to sob even more.  For whatever reason, they did choose me. They chose our home. They chose to come and be who they are here. Now.

I began to imagine everything they have seen on their soul journeys so far.  I thought of what friends, teachers, siblings, lovers they have had.  And I hoped that their former mothers were good to them and that they were at ease knowing they had come to a loving and peaceful home this time. I thought of all the things they've had to see, endure, experience, release. It made me want to just lie there with them and hold them tightly against my bosom forever.  But alas, life is mostly about change and letting go and whether or not we face that with grace and understanding or constantly resist them with waving fists and complaints.

Why would they come back to this place of constant change and letting go... to this rollercoaster of heartbreak and bliss?  Again, I am taken back to that poem by Tagore:

This dear little naked mendicant pretends to be utterly 
helpless, so that he may beg for mother's wealth of love.
 Baby was so free from every tie in the land of the tiny 
crescent moon. 
It was not for nothing he gave up his freedom. 
He knows that there is room for endless joy in mother's little
 corner of a heart, and it is sweeter far than liberty to be caught
 and pressed in her dear arms.


I feel blessed and so many other things at the same time right now.  My heart feels like it could burst. I feel so jumbled up and raw...