him

 

Photograph of my son and his essence taken by his friend Emilio Montero - 15 years old

A confession: my son´s adolescence has caught me off guard. I will not deny this. It has led me to cry, fret, endure sleepless nights, wonder where I went wrong and if I am loosing him. There have been moments where I, who have always thought of ways to nurture and guide, realize I have no answers. In my darkest hour I found myself paralyzed with fear and I still, to this day, find it difficult to describe how at that point in life,  my son´s voyage took me to the deepest, darkest corners of my own subconscious, and had me staring my worst nightmares straight in the face - those that were caged inside me, rotting after countless years of neglect. After having sunk to the bottom of my own broken mind I see this may very well turn out to be a gift like no other. The wrapping? A bit deceiving, seemingly cruel, but the essence obligates me to look deep inside, grow, think outside the box, tear apart all my preconceptions, be brave, forgive myself and prepare to do so more often, for I am only human, sometimes blessed, sometimes cursed with incalculable motherly love, rough edges, and flaws. I am humbled daily, for I am constantly challenged by moments where I feel I can take no more. I have to remind myself, this will not last forever and, more importantly, my son´s heart remains the same. He is a beautiful child trudging through the mud, fighting to become a beautiful man. And I, who am constantly faced with the terribly difficult task of learning when to step back and when to intercede, must not loose faith in him, myself or life.

Now, in the midst of searching for balance as I raise an "out of the box" boy in a black in white world,  swimming against the current and daring to reinvent myself to understand him and do his essence justice,  I find these words ring so true:

 

"I think the word ordinary has a bad rap. We encourage our children to strive to lead extraordinary lives, in the belief that such striving is not only admirable but necessary if they are to realize their goals and grow into fulfilled. successful adults. Many of us live in fear that our children may not live up to their potential, may fall behind their peers, may fail to embody our - or the culture´s - notions of success... I can´t help but wonder. What is the cost of all this striving? And what gets lost in our relentless push to achieve, have, and do more?"

"It´s easy, given the times we live in and the implicit messages we absorb each day, to equate a good life with having a lot and doing a lot. So it´s also easy to fall into believing that our children, if they are to succeed in life, need to be terrific at everything, and it´s up to us to make sure that they are... But in our well-intentioned efforts to do the right thing for our teenage children, we may be failing to provide them with something that is truly essential - the time and space they need to wake up to themselves, to grow acquainted with their own innate gifts, to dream their dreams and discover their true natures."

 

The Gift of an Ordinary Day

Katrina Kenison

extraordinary

 

It is a daily exercise that of pausing long enough to not let life prove how fleeting it can be. Allowing myself to be amazed by simple, day to day everythings:

 

My son saying goodbye before heading off to a short overnight trip, wrapping his strong, long arms around me, not letting go. His deep voice, almost 15 now, repeating how he will miss me. How he loves me. The top of his dirty blond head as the car drives off. His unmade bed, his shoes and dirty clothes where they all seem to naturally fall. His iPod player smack in the middle of the bathroom floor, art displayed everywhere, even where one is intended to walk. His own sense of order. His world, without him for now.

 

My daughter running by, in a hurry to head off to school. A whiff of her trails behind, the bits of baby  that still inhabit her curls pierce me, leave me inhaling, in awe, a strange ache in my heart. Our drive to school. How, although spring is something we dread -it´s unforgiving heat, relentless rays of searing sun- it´s arrival brings unearthly beauty, many times overlooked. Jacaranda trees in every corner, releasing it´s flowers, the soft purple tapestry dressing the pavement we drive over. Our silly conversation, her soft cheeks smiling. Birds, letting wings and song flow freely before the heat sinks in. The sounds that accompany us, cool morning air on face and hands as we walk towards the school door. My drive back. The sense of my children still on me,  until I get home. Dirty dishes and schedules I choose to postpone as I sit, coffee in hand, to write my gratitude and immortalize today´s simple miracles.

 

 

"Real life isn´t out there in the future somewhere... Real life is now."

 

"It is the thirteen-year-old son who´s at odds with his best friend and takes his frustration out on me... It is the husband bent over the newspaper, glasses sliding down his nose, the dog with a tick in her ear... It is the apple picked from the tree and eaten by the side of the road, the quiet pond, my own stiff shoulders and aching feet... The breeze through the screen door, the early darkness."

 

"None of this was ever part of the plan, but life so rarely unfolds according to plan. Real life is just where we are, in this moment, and the only mistake we´ve made so far has been not to pause long enough or often enough to realize that even this odd in-between time is precious, fleeting and worthy of attention."

 

"There is nothing special going on here, just the daily comings and goings... But now I begin to view our time together differently, begin to see that stepping up to one´s life adventure doesn´t necessarily mean doing extraordinary things. It also means coming to understand that viewed in the right light, through the right eyes, everything is extraordinary."

 

The Gift of an ordinary Day

Katrina Kenison

Chapter 5

 

sharing: wednesdays around the world

the passing of all things

"...I allow, just for a moment, the past to push hard against the walls of my heart. Being alive, it seems, means learning to bear the weight of the passing of all things. It means finding a way to lightly hold all the places we´ve loved and left anyway, all the moments and  days and years that have already been lived and lost to memory, even as we live on in the here and now, knowing full well that this moment, too, is already gone. It means, always, allowing for the hard truth of endings. It means, too, keeping faith in beginnings."

The Gift of an Ordinary Day

Katrina Kenison

Excerpt fro Chapter 5 - Doors

sharing:
Mummy, Daddy + Me

uncharted waters

When I first entered the uncharted waters which are now my common day to day, I found I was unable to express myself. How could I explain to my husband "what was wrong" when I couldn´t grasp it either? I am a survivor. I have navigated truly dangerous metaphorical storms and come out alive, stronger. My reaction seemed so uncharacteristic of my normally determined self. And so I became silent. It was not that words fell short, but rather that my mind was so overcome with what my heart was experiencing that it simply stopped short and ceased to be coherent, let alone create, enjoy, be... I was emotionally paralyzed and unable to communicate. Me, behind the lense of my camera, was the only place I didn´t feel as defeated by what seemed to be my new found disability. From there I still seemed to be able to express all I cherished, all i missed, all I feared. 

 



This had been me for months, some days better than others, yet all tinged by an air of "no return".

Then I came across a book. Not a regular book. One of those books that seem to speak to your very soul and it´s presence in your life to be anything but coincidental. The words that seem so lovingly and compassionately placed on page after page of "The Gift of an Ordinary Day" seem to magically restore a lost vocabulary to my silently screaming heart. They let me know: I am not alone, I am not going crazy. So it is that I am slowly recovering my inspiration and find soft, warmhearted smiles escaping my lips as I read. I have decided that when I find my own reflection described in these words, I will post. And so it begins, the sharing of my love for those perfect imperfections of everyday life and my path towards letting go, in the words of Katrina Kenison:

 

"It seemed to me during those early years of child raising that my sons´childhoods would go on forever. I couldn´t imagine any life other than the one that consumed me right then, life shaped by the joys and demands of raising young children."

 

"...I learned a lot about myself, and many lessons in mindfulness, during those long days. Intense and demanding as they are, the years we spend with our young children can also be deeply, viscerally gratifying. We know exactly where we are needed and what we need to be doing. Immersed in the physical and  emotional realm of parenthood, we develop reserves of patience, imagination and fortitude we never dreamed possible. At times the hard work of being a mother seems in itself a spiritual practice, an opportunity for growth and self-exploration in an extraordinarily intimate world, a world in which hands are for holding, bodies for snuggling, laps for sitting."

 

"...The changes, when they began, were subtle at first. Somehow our treasured family ritual of reading together at bedtime slipped away. No one asked for stories anymore... Baseballs stopped flying in the backyard. A bedroom door that had always been open, quietly closed..."

 

The Gift of an Ordinary Day: A mother´s Memoir

Katrina Kenison