So I haven't even taken a shower yet...but living with a child is so damn much fun. When you have a kid like Bodhi, whose enthusiasm is contagious, you find yourself doing things you had no intention of doing with the joyful abandon of a former time...a time when playing was the reason for living and "busy" was a ridiculous invention of adults. The boxes were just lying around, waiting to be recycled, and that bubble wrap was begging for purpose. So here you have it...a fort and robot for protection in no time. As I walked in the house ready for some shampoo, Bodhi hollered, "MOM you forgot something!!! It needs a doorbell!" Of course it does, but that will have to wait until mom is bathed and fresh. Unless Bodhi figures something out sooner, which could bode disaster for my Tibetan bells or any number of potentially repurposed treasures.
Some days, you just have to forget about ‘healing’. You have to stop trying to feel better, trying to overcome your emotional wounds, or trying to be anywhere other than where you are. You have to embrace the day as it is. And you have to give yourself the most sacred permission of all: To shatter. To break. To be an ugly mess. To lean into a place of utter humility and powerlessness in yourself. To cry out to the heavens, “I can’t do this!” To admit utter defeat in the loss of the life you had imagined. To crumble to the ground, lonely and hopeless and profoundly ruined. To want to die, even. And there, in the darkest places, in the blackness of the underworld, you may begin to rediscover... life. And learn to love the beginnings. A sacred reboot: A single breath. The way the sun warms your face. The sound of a tiny bird singing in the tree over there. The raw simplicity of a single moment of human existence. Hell has been transmuted, thr...

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