Matching Moments

Why does it feel so hard for us, at times, so often, to be with our children’s struggle, to be the calm and safety they need?

Why does it feel so hard for us that we make the call not to feel at all? That we try to do it all by thought instead?

Why do we force what is inside of us to bubble up and boil over in order to be seen and heard? Why do we walk away from the blow ups, scolding ourselves and stuffing it all back down? 

Why do we work so hard to hide what is real and true for us, from view?

We are complex beings, made up of layers of experience. We are built from emotional blank canvasses over days, months, years…in moments.

Moments that come and go, some that pass and others that stay. 

The moments that stay, they are the reason why. Coming back, coming up, always looking for their way out throughout our lives.

Our children offer them opportunities with their struggles, offer matching moments, mirror images, conflicting story lines over and over again as they grow and experience life so close to us. 

Our children force us to feel what is there and often has been for years. Our children offer us a million opportunities in a day, to heal what holds us back. 

It feels hard because it is hard. It feels hard because of the fight we naturally put up. The fight to stay still, stay put, stay in control and unmoved by how we feel.

Before I was able to hear my body and be with it’s layers I learned to listen to my child. Learning to listen to him, his needs and the messages in his needs felt worthy of my time and energy, before listening to myself did. 

I had to learn how to listen again. I had to learn the language of my body, my senses. I had to sit and allow myself to see, to feel, to move with what was there without turning away from it. There was quite a queue, years worth of moments that had stayed because they hadn’t ever been able to hold me still long enough to find their way out. 

It doesn’t feel hard anymore, to be with others in their struggles. Because I am willing and able to be with the parts of myself that their struggles might awaken. Because the queue in me isn’t so long anymore, because I know that it doesn’t feel hard when I allow what is there, with my presence, to find it’s way out. It actually feels like relief, like lightness, like freedom. 

I’m not special in my ability to do this. I’m someone just like you. 

Someone who has been incredibly fortunate to be led on a particular path of experiences that got me to here. 

Someone who is now able to share my words, my presence, my abilities in support of others on their paths.