I believe very much in families being chosen on purpose. That our ancestors pass on wisdom, pain, challenges, and opportunities as much as they pass on eye color or left-handedness. Sometimes when something feels Extra—extra big, extra exciting, extra unforgettable, I wonder if I’m tapping into something someone in my family went through before me—that it’s my turn to evolve or deepen or heal whatever that energy is. That this is part of why we picked each other. Could be something they loved passionately, could be something they didn’t complete, could be a lot of things. Since energy doesn’t disappear (1st law of thermodynamics!) it makes sense to me that it would pass from one descendent to the next until it shifts. There are all kinds of things to read on this, and I’m not going to go on and on about it here, but suffice to say it resonates with me.
I’ve thought a lot about my connection to my maternal grandmother since having my 4th baby 3 years ago. Maybe because she had 2 boys and 2 girls and suddenly so did I. Maybe because she loved a lot of the things I love. Maybe because like me, she wrote, she traveled, she was up for any adventure, she took some big left turns she didn’t see coming. And some of the ways I know she struggled are ways I struggle too. My mom tells me how from the moment my grandmother met me, she felt a profound connection to me. She died many years ago but I feel more connected to her than I ever have, especially to what I believe were the tender parts she kept under wraps. I know how to do that too, but lately life has served me some circumstances in which I find that impossible. The tender parts of my heart are so on the surface that if you brush against them they are likely to leak. And I’m staying with them. I have zero desire to move quickly past them or turn them into anything other than what they are. I feel they have always been there, that they are an Essential part of me, and that by letting them into the light I am experiencing an entirely new level of openness in my life.
I feel that part of my work in this life is to embrace these very very very soft parts. To see what happens if I let them circulate as vital an energy in me as the fiery parts I am always eager to inhabit. And if I feel connected to her in this because maybe—and I know it’s a maybe but it does feel true—she had the same in her heart and she swallowed it. If this was why some of her struggles were as difficult as they were.
2 years ago, back when I still lived in LA, I was doing an online breathwork session and she visited me. She didn’t say anything, but she stayed with me that whole session, just stayed next to me, gentle and loving and so present. When the session ended and I sat up, I wrote this. For her and for me. I didn’t know what it meant then, but maybe I jumped into the future. Into this time when I am finally ready to feel into the deepest layers of tenderness and quiet and see what’s there.
Now is the Time
Now is the time
she becomes her own way
The wall between earth and space is soft now
Green with moss
and memory
one flight up
she opens the door
The pinhole lens expands
A mountain range inside her fills the frame
She can touch the sky
feel the river cool around her ankles
brush her cheek against the moon
Now
in this time
With all there is to hold her
Now in this time
Her heart is hers