For a brief few hours last evening, I sat on the porch of a friend’s home chatting, ordering pizzas and watching a group of over ten kids walk to the park, chat and interact with each other. My gangly twins and the stocky youngest fit in seamlessly. They made their own sub groups, congregating and separating like a flock of birds in the air.
After what seemed ages, I just watched without actively parenting.
On my drive home, the absence of the metaphorical weight on my shoulders was telling. My posture was relaxed, my heart light, my mind empty. I could get used to this I thought and realized with a start that the only person between me and this peace was me. It’s not that I did not know that in some logical sense but it never hit me with force until last evening.
The letting go that people talk of and, that I mull over is so simple in theory. In practice, it is a lifetime’s work. The letting go happens when there is trust and a sense that in your absence all will be well. My older ones are sprouting wings and I am struggling with the balance between holding on and letting go.
This morning my yard was abloom with flowers and birds swooped in and out, reminding me that wings were to fly. The birds are ready, it is this mama that is holding them back.