The joy of inward peace. Freedom to express the beauty when the mind pulls you to the indifferent. As I walk through the town experiencing the adventures of a new day, I’m reminded of the undeniable connections and messages that gently force their way into my journey. There always seems to be a work you come with and a renewed outlook when you honor the work in your new surroundings.

I’m away.

Trying to manage work/life balance, motherhood, marriage, and commitments. In walking and discovering,  I stumble upon Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Among the best sellers, yoga books, and planners (some of my favorites), this book reaches out its hand and says, “Remember me?” Oh yes, I remember you. Given to me by a friend in high school who is a brilliant thinker and servant to others. I tucked the book away until just the right time. I read the book five years later in my late 20’s. Now, over 32 years later, I’m back embracing an old friend.

I’ve become impatient and anxious. Life is one big ball of tied up rubber bands-layered and becoming more complex. If one band snaps, will the rest of them stay put? It takes her words to remind me to slow down–

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach–waiting for a gift from the sea.

My word this month has been “freedom”. Am I free to be open to whatever the day brings–life brings? Open to life itself, not just the joyful moments that were created from exhausting efforts and lists, but the awkward, hard moments that present themselves unexpectedly.

The here and now.

A text from a friend while I was in a diner gift shop listening to one of those songs from the 50’s that make you twist and shout was a recent “here and now”. I was flooded with joy and resolve to say “no” to something that meant more time with my family and a simplification of my life. This no means I can say yes to the most important things in my life. We get called to our table to order hamburgers, fries, and dance to the YMCA song with my grand-baby. We all know that one “no” is only one step. We already have a thousand yeses to answer to. Somehow we convince ourselves that the one “no” means we’ve failed.

Patience. Faith.  Lie empty and open…

My blog is a place to connect with others. My hope is that my daughters and their families will one day, just like I did with Gift from the Sea, return and remember. I love my daughters until I think my heart will burst. As I sat beside my youngest watching the new Mamma Mia movie, I turn to her and said, “You thrill me. You delight me.” (Song: I’ve Been Waiting for You.)  No sooner did I go down the road of attachment and bonding, I found myself jolted out of clinging to the remembrance of “I don’t possess you.”  (Song: My Love, My Life)

The gift from the sea seems to be a metaphor not only for my daily struggles, but for the hardest journey a mother faces–letting go. If I had it to do over again, I would take notice of those moments and honor them as sacred practices and not irritants or sorrowful yearnings. The bottles, pacifiers, Kindergarten, middle school, college, and marriage…..

Each day brings a new beauty to our journey, and I will sit on the shore, not anxiously digging, but awaiting the God story that only He can create.  Oh my sweet mamma Louise, Your beauty lives in me. Although you do not possess me, you walk with me. I will never be alone. My Love, My Life.

Song, My Love, My Life, from Mamma Mia