Posted on January 8, 2012 - Filed Under 2012, gratitude, JP, kid, life, Parenting, Rituals, self concept
I am curled up in bed, filled with delight and the warmth of heavy blankets pressed on my skin. I have a sense of deep gratitude moving through me. It has been an eternity since I have moved through my moon cycles and rituals, putting out to the universe what I would like to see in my life, and then moving through gratitude for the gifts that dance with me daily. I am grateful for being in my own bed, a space familiar and cocooning, soft and supportive. The full moon is bursting outside, and it feels good to take a moment to write.
I spent this whole weekend, moving easily with delighted eyes and inviting energy, relishing the flavor of my experiences and watching eagerly who I am in each of them. I feel patient, and, a bit lit up. All of this tumbling through me with ongoing waves of laughter and grins. I am grateful for the many successes I have experienced this week, for my part in them, for the opportunities to be part of them, for the deep sense of self I have encountered through them.
I have smiled at endless amounts of strangers this week. I have danced 6 of 8 days since my return. I have enjoyed good meals with people i appreciate. My bills are paid. I have a new Garmin to help me find my way. Two jars of Pennsylvania special homegrown mustards sit on my counter, brought as a thoughtful gift. My hair is trimmed into a playful boy cut, my nose adorned with a diamond I have been waiting for for over a year. I have friends in this new town, inviting me to chill, and a Jag club full of people who now know me well enough to kiss my cheeks when we reconnect. My dog is back home with my dad, and when I visit I get to snuggle with him.
This afternoon I sat with my son and his cubing mentor (sometimes mentored), Chris, and I got to enjoy Justin’s humor with the resounding playful laugh that poured out of the three of us at the table. I listened to Justin talk and realized that he carries on our talent for storytelling, stretching the truth for the playful potential it carries, and the adventurous journey it creates in the minds of the listeners. I had opportunity to see his perspective in the ridiculousness that bumped and jived through our consumption of each tale, and I grinned. I grinned from the core of my being that this kidlet beside me, with a moppy unwashed head of curls, and big expressive eyes, has evolved into a playful, sharp, well-meaning young man, reflective in many ways of my father, my mother, Monica, and me. In the moment, as I listened and watched I was fully in love with all that he is, and felt somehow privileged that I get to be in his world like this; that I can joke and dance with his stories just as easily as he concocts them, and in that way we connect.
Undoubtedly, I curl up under these blankets, and I am in love with my world. Gratitude whistling while it walks through my day. Enthusiasm doing cartwheels, down-hill, in the grass, with bare feet. And me, a whirling, twirling, dancing, full-of-grace kind of woman, contentedly snuggled into this new space on a full moon.