Sometimes I am amazed that my son is mine and that I am his. Sometimes, his joy is so pure and true, void of any ego, that it brings tears to my eyes. His joy is the kind that some people will never know but will search their entire lives for with too much booze or sex or chocolate. His joy teaches me.
Yesterday, we were digging in the sand at the beach and my boy was so content to make me a pretend cupcake with peppermint-cheese on top, his only job to create and destroy and create again. I have spent many years searching for a way back to that kind of joy. So much of life gets filled with the minutiae of the day-to-day that I find myself forgetting joy, caught up in my own ego; striving for success and sometimes not remembering what that means. My child is the one who reminds me to slow down and breathe deeply. He reminds me that my connection to him and other people is my success. His wide eyes remind me that the world is open if one just lets it be so.
2013 has been quite the year so far: two sprained ankles, four weeks of illness, an injured tailbone after a fall, a hip replacement (not mine), and lots and LOTS of rain/ gray days. I have felt the tension that lack of sunlight brings balling up in my gut. “I can not take another fucking day without sun!” I have heard myself say that most days that end in ‘y’. But the truth is, each moment can be filled with the joy of a child, if we let it. Each moment brings possibility, if we open ourselves to it.
So tonight, I am reframing: 2013 is full of possibility. I learned this from my boy, who earlier tonight, made me a sand cupcake sprinkled with peppermint-cheese and ketchup. Really, the possibilities are endless.