It’s a bitter-sweet symphony having the Wee One spend time with family on the weekends.
When he’s here, from time to time I think, “A sitter would be nice right now. Just for an hour or two.” But when he’s away, as soon as he pulls out of the driveway. I want him to come back.
Sometimes, horrible thoughts cross my mind, like, “what if this is the last time I ever see him.” And then I quickly shoo that thought far, far away.
I have more empathy now for mothers now. For people. I feel deeper. I hurt deeper. I love deeper. I cry more often.
I notice, with the speed of light, when I am unkind to myself.
The past week or more I’ve been stuck in a writing-thinking-praying funk.
“It” didn’t break free until this morning. When the downpour came; I welcomed it.
Every 6-7 months my mind and spirit hit the reset button. It almost feels as though all of the footing I had gained; all that I had “discovered” about myself and felt comfortable knowing disappears into thin air and I stand naked. With no direction.
What I had come to know, is lost and here I sit with a brand new Megan. Again.
The only thing that ever brings me back to the Light is writing. It’s the only compass I’ve ever known. The instrument that never fails.
So here I sit, unveiling my soul. Letting the Light shine in. And knowing that I, am the only thing ever standing in my way.