I am so ready to breathe again. You know, those deep, full, belly-breaths that infuse life throughout your body and revitalize your mind so it can gracefully handle whatever is next? Those breaths that remind you that you matter, that you need to take care of you because no one else can do it for you and that right now is the only time because if you don’t – well – it can all fall apart. And today, after forgetting to breathe and having it all fall apart over the past two plus years, I’m taking the first vital steps necessary to pull myself into my new and unique version of “together.”
As I’ve held my breath I’ve incurred damage to my health, my emotional state, my blog, many friendships, my kid, my work. Most of the fallout wasn’t visible to the onlooker or even to those involved. With the exception of some nasty extra pounds on this tiny frame, I’d like to believe that my life seemed in tact (mostly, anyway) when viewed from a distance. To my heart and spirit, however, the havoc has been painfully, mind-blowing-ly crystal clear.
So, in an effort to set things right, I’m diving into the deep end! Might as well use that breath holding talent for something useful, right? I’m releasing distractions that kept me spread so thin that I couldn’t pull focus on any of the projects critical to my financial and business success. I’m freeing up my calendar to allow time for more work to flow in. And I’m stopping my son’s hybrid home schooling program. I’m leaning in to the dawning realization that I am only one person and as a single parent, our best shot at a good life means me working more and my son being coddled less.
I sent my son to public middle school this week. Preparing for this profound decision, and seeing it through, has been life altering, with messy emotions oozing through every moment –
elation
to have free time once more to focus on work and ME
fear
bullies are pervasive in public middle schools, especially in a town like mine, where arts and culture are practically non-existent
disappointment
that I’ve slowly needed to let go of my dreams for my son to have a special, intimate, protected, top-notch education
sadness
to watch my son experience his awkward-ness, see it reflected in the eyes of his peers, imagined or not, it’s real to him
hope
seeing that glimmer in his eye that indicates it might not be so terrible as we anticipated
excitement
for both of our possibilities to unfold, our characters to blossom, once we’ve assimilated this new reality and learned to make the most of it
I’m calling this my “life remodel.” Making changes, tiny and not-so-tiny – so I can breathe new life into my life – ever mindful of the wisdom that I need to secure my oxygen mask first, so I can best help my son. Feeling all the feelings, even the icky, gooey, really cruddy ones, will make our individual transformations possible. I find myself sitting here now, as I write, holding my breath again. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. For my son to be bullied or hurt at school. For my decision to be proved wrong. I stop. I inhale a big belly breath and let it go. Hopeful.
oh-so-sweet serendipity 