Who am I now?
Now a mom of two beautiful boys.
Coming out of my newborn bubble.
So curious about who I am now.
I miss the birthing experience.
There's something about birth,
Whether it's.
.
.
A rebirth of discovering who you are.
Whether it's the birth of a child.
Whether it's witnessing your flowers in your garden bloom for the very first time.
There's something about when something starts.
There's just so much beauty in those moments.
It's been some time since you've heard my voice.
And perhaps my voice has changed.
Perhaps not.
I've been living my life.
Is if every moment is.
.
.
Part.
As if every moment is an opportunity for creativity.
Because it's all,
In a sense,
Art.
And it's something I teach because I feel like if we.
.
.
Saw every moment.
As something of a creation,
That we are creating,
That we are actively participating in creating.
We probably would feel a lot more fulfilled.
We'd feel a lot more purposeful.
A lot more connected.
And a lot less fearful,
Or I guess the opposite is feeling safe.
To just kind of play and have fun.
Enjoy life.
It's interesting because there's nothing like a newborn baby to remind you.
Of this very thing.
They're creating from absolute scratch.
They're learning how to talk.
How to interact with the world.
Through learning how to eat for the first time.
They don't have that lifeline or umbilical cord attached to you anymore.
And there's something so powerful about.
This space and learning to cultivate it.
In everyday moments.
Without force.
We see this in birth,
In nature.
Through our emotions,
In relationships.
And it's not just for us.
It's for everyone that we interact with.
And even in moments where we're totally alone and we see that sign in the middle of the road.
That just reminds us that.
There is something greater that holds us.
That binds us.
In ways that are freeing,
Not bound.
In ways that transform us.
Living this way reminds me to be a seed.
Planter.
To honor the moments of birth.
To get creative in things like marriage.
Being in union with someone.
And this overarching creativity.
In the small moments,
Like cooking your favorite meal.
Talking to a friend.
Solving a problem.
It's like creating an everyday Eden.
And yet.
This saying.
Just rings through my mind.
That one of my teachers taught me.
It is what got you here,
Won't get you there.
And as I prepare to come on here and share my voice.
I was reminded that I was starting again.
In this new version of me,
Another blank canvas.
I feel like I've been here before.
And it'll take everything.
That I know to be true.
It'll take everything that I know to be true to continue to show up in this space.
Remembering my voice.
And reinventing it.
As I speak.
And we know that gardens cannot be rushed.
You know,
This year we planted our garden and every year it's different.
Every year it teaches us something.
This year a little more structured.
A little more collaborative.
And still some seeds just did not sprout.
One out of four tomato plants.
All of the cucumbers.
And yet there have been years where none of the cucumbers sprouts.
And that's the thing about gardens and about life.
It's not in our control.
We can plant the seed.
But we still have to see what comes of it.
And it takes everything that we have.
Just like it takes everything for this seed to come into form.
It takes everything.
Every piece of energy for the seed to burst into a plant.
And for me in this moment,
It's like growing pains of finding my voice over and over and over and over again.
And yet I still keep coming back.
Because every time I do,
I find deeper truths.
I learn more about myself.
And I learned so much about you.
I learned so much about humanity.
I learned so much about every friend that has ever crossed my path.
As I sit here.
In the dusk of the night.
That's coming upon us.
There's something about podcasting at nighttime.
It's like everything is quiet.
And you're looking through a window.
And the world still moves,
But everything is so quiet and peaceful.
As if to say.
.
.
It's your turn to speak.
What do you have to share with the world?
And the growing pains are beginning again and again and again.
I can hear the clock ticking.
I can see the bugs buzzing around the trees and the birds flying on top of my neighbor's roof.
Just perching itself there and looking and waiting and listening.
As the sun hits the grass one last time.
What is this season?
What will I become?
Who will I know just a little bit deeper?
What will I understand that I didn't see before?
So much to unpack my friends.
So you're going to want to buckle up as always for this series.
Let's see what comes next.
