last night i finally took out the compost. i had put my two girls to bed. it was dark and cold. the dishes were done. the stainless steel compost bucket was full (and honestly mold was growing in there). i told myself it would only take a few minutes. so i put on my boots and a hat. no jacket. i walked out the back door into the slap of ontario winter cold. it was refreshing. a wild wake up. the stars were gorgeous. the cold seemed to quiet everything except for the sound of snow under my steps. i walked into the backyard between two snow angels. i was surprised because i didn’t know they were there: two beautiful indentations. i didn’t know my daughters had formed them. and i was overwhelmed by grace. grace and gratitude. in the starry night i was standing in the cold cold between two joyful snow angels. and i laughed at how sometimes the things i avoid give me such sweet surprise and delight.
for years i have avoided really being with myself. i have been married and divorced. heartbroken. and heart broken. i can barely remember a time (i’m talking young young) when i have not been pining for some boy (or occasionally girl); some man or woman.
this last year i have been begging the divine (again) for my life partner. writing lists. looking at everyone who walks by. staring into cars. “are you the one?” and when i learned that perhaps choosing what i want instead of simply wanting what i want might land me the man… i asked for help in choosing. i asked god. help me.
god help me. seriously. i don’t know how to do this by myself.
and somehow through a series of beautiful and painful events i land on the island of barbados for a holiday of my choosing. i plan the whole thing myself. i took myself on a weeklong date. and i didn’t even know that that was what i was doing until someone told me. but it was a date. and it was the best date of my life. i went to be by myself. to be me. not a mama. not a yoga teacher. not a raw foodie. not even a woman from canada. just she by the sea.
i fell in love with she.
and for the first time since i can remember i don’t need anyone to be mine. i asked the ocean, the salty salty sea, to pull from me what i did not need. and i think it worked. i feel free. the desperation is not present.
there are so many ways to be lovely. so many ways to love ourselves. taking out the compost or flying to and island are equally magical. giving to ourselves. giving to one another.
so i begin. a new way of being with me.