We went on a road trip which took us on a ferry over the water to a small island.
We listened to live music and watched the kids play football with some other kids we didn’t know. People were laughing and dancing. The sun was shining. We ate lunch out and had ice cream. There were gardens with beautiful flowers and a pond with fish and water lilies similar to one I have tattooed on my skin.
I started to feel overwhelmed. So much peace and happiness, so much joy. It makes my small child’s heart ache. It is a reminder of what I never had. It feels like such a cruel punishment that as an adult, even when I’m experiencing joy, there is pain there. Emotional flashbacks… the body holds the memories.
I took a moment to breathe and look around. I walked away from the noise and looked closely at the lily. A breathtaking symbol of enlightenment. The beauty that blooms from the muddy waters.
I thanked it. Outloud.
Thank you for reminding me to slow down and be grateful for how I am blooming… slowly, in my own time, in my own unique way, through the mud and up into the light, with my slightly crumpled petals and delicate edges… thank you for reminding me how I fought my way out and up for air. Thank you for reminding me that my roots may be in dirt and muck but my face is turned towards love and my arms reach out for hopeful, nurturing things.
I wandered back to my kids and my husband and silently shared my gratitude for them with the little girl inside me.