What are you reading?

My reading material for the flight home today. Looking forward to learning how to better love and support the men in my life…

Whatโ€™s Next?

A member of my family passed recently. He was warm, kind, very much loved and will be missed. Currently I am in my hometown for the services.

At funerals there are always such assurances as to the whereabouts of the deceased. I find myself wondering where they hoped they’d be- I don’t mean in a heaven vs hell way. And I’m not necessarily talking about their religion. More a curiosity as to what they hoped would be next for them. Will it be what they hoped for? What you hope for and what you actually believe are often not the same thing.

When I think about these things, the idea of my body returning to the earth, my mind and soul simply being released and gone- I’m ok with this. I guess you could even say that I believe that; that we return to where we’re from. The earth. It’s cyclic, like so much of the natural world is, and that makes sense to me. But what do I hope for?

I like the idea of reincarnation. Still cyclic and my brain likes that. More than that, I love this thought of all the things we could become, the things we may become part of. So while I can’t yet in my journey bring myself to believe in it, I hope for reincarnation; to be (even part of) something lovely and uplifting.

I think my Uncle T would most definitely come back as something generous, loving, and bright, as he was all of those things.

What do you think is next?

What do you hope is next?

Conflicting and loving it โค๏ธ

My four-year-old loves Darth Vader (see the tiny tattoo on her hand), jewelry, wrestling, dresses, sword fighting, nerf guns, pretending, being a self-dressing mismatched mess… she’s everything. And when people ask if she’s a girly girl or not, I don’t know how best to answer and usually respond “both.” She loves the princesses. But she also loves the heroes and witches and villains- in her play, she tries them all on for size. She’s a consistent reminder to me that you don’t need to fit into anyone else’s parameters, societie’s ideals of femininity or masculinity. She’s a constant lesson in not categorizing people, including myself. Can you imagine if we could simply let our children (and really anyone else) be as they are with no expectations and no judgement? In short, she is living as her truest self and challenging me to do the same. Conflicted and loving it. What are you learning from the “little” people in your lives? (I think there’s maybe a cool poem idea in this?)