I haven’t written in a while. All the usual reasons. My inability to sit down and commit to consistently writing on this small space of the internet that I call my own seems to punctuate my problems with consistency in general. I struggle with it so hard. The oils trend is super fun, and I have seen it work wonders. When I am consistent. Dieting is going so well, until I hurt my foot and couldn’t do any sort of impact physical activity. Consistency went down the drain. What is it about the human spirit and that once we take a moment to step out of the rodent wheel we choose or find ourselves in that we can not seem to get back on?!
I am writing every morning. Every morning I rise early before my small people to have a single (or if I’m extra lucky two) hot cup of coffee. NOT. MICROWAVED. All my moms just completely nodded their head yes in agreement that that is the best thing ever. Almost as good as all the kids taking a nap at the same time and getting to watch one of your shows on netflix. What? You don’t want to watch a mother episode of Ninjago? or Octonauts? or Miles from Tomorrowland?
When I rise for my morning dose of legal addictive stimulates I also sit outside. I enjoy the quiet and cool of the morning. I am alone with my thoughts. My hurts. My joys. My fears. My deep heart murmuring of my soul. My ideas. My journal has become this way of getting so much out so I can have room to breathe in and fill the empty spaces with breath and not burden. I have found so much of a gift in this time.
My morning time is one of the best parts of my day. One that my husband calls me crazy for doing, but I’m crazy for lots of reasons so I don’t know why he bothers. I would like to hope that I could find myself in front of the computer a few of these mornings and to share my thoughts and dreams and deep hurts that come from a mamas heart with you lovely people.
We shall have to see how it goes. I know many bloggers and writers alike devote specific time of their day to sit, uninterrupted and write. I want to write. I want to inspire. To share a gift. I love sharing my life, my story and my struggles with others. It is freeing to me. It also allows me to give freedom to others. There have been many moments where a mama struggling with the weighted guilt of depression has thanked me for being the one to be vulnerable first. That is worth all the cups of coffee in the world. I want someday to be able to share my ever evolving story with women on a grander scale. I know those in my small world hear me talk often of the need for unity and transparency in motherhood. But, I am serious ladies. We have to find a way to become allies and all realize we have no clue what we are doing. But we all hope with every ounce of our soul we are doing it right. And, there are a lot of us who are desperately trying to find a way to even like what we are being called to let alone able to worry about doing it “right.”
This is a journey and I’m trying to dream big. Trying to not become overwhelmed by my perceived bigness of the small things. And, right now. As I am typing my biggest comes and says he wants to do something with me. This blog could be bigger to me in this moment, but in actuality it is small. The time he WANTS to spend with me is big. Bigger than ever reaching 100s of women some day. He. Is most important. Reaching him is big. So, thats all for today.