Bringing peace with me.
Buzz is around what the new year will bring. What the New Year will look like. Planners filled with plans and dreams and life goals. As I listen to my children screaming healthy loud screams for the injustice of the wrong cartoon selected, I wonder about what brings me peace that I want to bring into the coming year. First and foremost, those beautiful screams and educated arguments between my six year old Elsa and four year old Anna.
“It’s not even interesting,” says Anna about the cartoon Elsa picked upon ripping the remote from her hands.
“Not to you right now, but watch and you will learn to like it like I learned to like you.” She quips.
“Well I didn’t learn to like you!” Shouts Anna exiting the room to tell on her sister.
Elsa has had a hard run for the three years past, her profound giftedness landed her unforgiving situations we misplaced trust in. The recent year in the public school we enrolled her in has blossomed her into the amazing, confident and surefooted six year old that she is. The love from her teachers all eight of them who interact with her have been exceptional. Unconditional love in its purest form growing my child. For this I have eternal gratitude for the peace blanketing my mothering heart.
Anna did not have much time at a preschool before Covid began, but the learning experience she had at her school with gentle loving care demonstrated by her teachers who held her hand beyond a threshold into her becoming. This love they graced my child with is peace. Anna is eloquent, she is adventurous, humorous and incredibly intelligent. Above all, she is sensitive and generous. From the screams itself you can tell healthy, thriving children live here. They fight fiercely and they love just the same. Watching them and observing their interactions both violent and kind, I am at peace. I am at peace for these children who live life to its fullest.
I disappeared into our bubble last summer as my children jumped and frolicked in Lake Michigan. Floating on their backs, a new trick they learned, the smiles on their faces frozen in caution of the waves bringing water too close to their faces. “Ahhhh it’s a nice day!” Anna would say whenever she was having fun. Elsa chose the complicated water stunts to prove she was a big girl and a better swimmer. The glee in her eyes that smiled whenever her heart did, I found peace. My husband trying to lay on the raft to enjoy the gentle drift, bombarded by kisses of children climbing onto the raft, toppling it over. His face lit up with a childlike mischief, grabbing Elsa and catapulting her into the water, a scream and blast of laughter. That was my blast of bliss.
For peace I find on my days, days dedicated to my finding peace, The waters have never failed me. I revisit the cool winter breeze on the lake by our house would be where I would spend hours just being. Watching the graceful heron swoop over the water, wing spanned so majestically. The beautiful ducks in their families calling to each other occasionally head dunking and shaking off that excess water. In all these movements in nature, I find peace. Not wanting for more, but consistently surprised by the next regal creature to meet my acquaintance. In the quiet of the evening and the lull of the water, I find peace. I find calm.
Some days I enjoy the company of a friend, sharing wine on the back porch, I watched my friend as she was animated in her report of her children and the everyday hurdles. Her eyes light up, face serious but always breaking up into laughter. I listen intently, but what draws me in is her beautiful face, of authenticity, kindness and genuine love. In her animated expressions, I find peace. Her voice quivers when she gets excited and my heart races to follow. Her stories fill my days of mundane regularities, providing an escape from what is mine into hers. Her honesty gives me peace. I find calm in her storytelling voice.
Some friends I don’t get to sit with, separated by oceans, so we meet when we can on Zoom, I watch their faces that are changing with the years we spend apart, the amazing humans they keep blossoming into. I find peace in the knowing of their wellness. I hardly listen anymore these days for I am besotted with the enormity of their selves. Their ever evolving amazing selves. I am at peace just watching them, just being in their presence.
More family I could not live without are the furry ones that steal my heart with every whimper or every pose they take while sleeping. Watching these babies brings me peace. My rabbit, Bunny Bean, he’s an old guy but I am forced to forget every time he climbs up on me to nuzzle on my neck. His little feet finding just the right spot then calm nuzzles, bringing me peace and taking me away from my world for a minute. My dog, Morgan forcibly plonks himself next to me while I’m watching tv, nursing a glass of wine, his head on my lap, refusing to go to bed until I am done. His unconditional love for me and me for him brings my heart immense peace. His brother, our cat, Chuck is my writing buddy, he owns my Zen Zone where I write and sits right by my the whole time I have ever written. His insistence on supporting me brings me deep peace.
Of all the things that bring me peace, one that has been a great release, a burden lifted has been these pages I share with you. The burden of the pains and trauma and mental illness I live my days through, put out there to share with others has brought me immeasurable peace and calm. I have finally arrived and am finally me. I am finally in love with me and that above all is the peace of all peaces.
With the new year beckoning, I’ll bring with me all the peace I have found and truly appreciated this year. I ask not for more in variation, but for more of this peace and calm in my soul for once drawn free of all facades, these slivers of peace filled my heart and brought me love.
This I wish for me, and for all around me.