I Wasn’t Prepared For This
Published on October 14, 2011
Yesterday, I purchased very expensive body lotion made with actual organic rose oil and chamomile. It smells feminine, soft, and full of promise. Something I would never normally wear, none the less purchase.
Yesterday, it was strangely too hot here in the desert for October. But I didn’t notice. I didn’t care.
Yesterday, I still felt sick and exhausted, but I let go of thinking it was the plague–a burden–a reason to stress over and whine.
Yesterday, as part of my Yoga Teacher Training, I sat and observed one of my all time favorite Yoga Teachers. I was in complete awe of how, in such a subtle and easeful fashion, she adjusted people–a simple turn of the wrist, a soft rest of her palm on one’s shoulders, a kind word whispered to lift the inner thigh–and the person’s whole energy changed–it shifted–it relaxed deeper into the pose. They merged into the space around them like nature does or when the ocean hits the shore.
Yesterday, for the very first time, I saw my baby inside me. And like a simple turn of the wrist, my whole entire world melted into the space nestled deep in my anatomy.
I wasn’t prepared for this.
The incredible feeling that rushes through each cell.
I wasn’t prepared that I would suddenly hear birds singing outside
when I used to only hear cars.
I wasn’t prepared that the sky would turn bluer.
That the afternoon breeze would suddenly wrap around me like a silk ribbon-
That time, and thoughts, and every idea I’ve ever had about who I was–or who I was becoming–
would collapse into the earth below and sprout flowers at my feet.
Yesterday, I became a mother.