Tag: #love

I felt special. I felt important.

I have never in 48 years taken a trip with no other purpose than connecting with myself. Yes, I have gone to classes and spent nights away from my family. I’ve had plenty of work trips that took me across the pond for a few nights. And, I even spent one extra night by myself in Hawaii…but let’s be honest, I was recuperating from my husband’s 50th birthday party where I pretty much managed everyone and everything. (don’t tell the guests that or Alex because he’d say he did a lot and everyone helped…but let’s be honest an entire house of rotating guests for 8 days was EXHAUSTING and NOT in the least bit relaxing for me!) I digress.

This week, however, I reserved a little cabin in the woods for 2 nights of me time. 

As I drove out of Tahoe City, towards Sierraville (only an hour away), I felt giddy. I felt anxious and a bit nervous. I felt happy and content. I felt calm. I felt a few layers gently roll off my shoulders and I could breathe a touch easier. 

When I arrived at my adorable little cozy cabin in the woods, I felt special. I felt special. And, as I type this now, I actually get a bit weepy. What exactly does “special” mean in this context…well, I felt important. I felt my needs take the front seat. And, that realization was peaceful and healing. Even before I “did” anything, I knew that I was putting myself, my needs, my desires, and my feelings at the forefront of my mind. No one else to think about. No one else to be more important.

I unpacked slowly. Saged the space. Lit the fire. Set up my diffuser. Made a cup of tea.

I put on a warm coat and grabbed my mug. I walked a ways along the stream through the woods. The magical gurgling of the crisp water made my ears happy. It had so much to say. I sat next to it and meditated for a long time. 

The bear energy came to me. A strong energy that wanted me to honor its place on the land. It reminded me to take the time to hibernate and let ideas grow. The bear reminded me that growth takes time. I hadn’t been giving myself time. Yes, I give many others time, but I hadn’t given myself the grace of time to grow and foster and tend to those things that fed my soul, my creativity, my light.

I tried to honor the bear this weekend. I honored the bear within myself. We use the phrase “Mama Bear” frequently on this journey of parenting. Do we give ourselves the protective, nurturing, mothering love the bear gives her cubs? Do we give ourselves the protective, nurturing, mothering love we give our children? Do you?

Today, if you can, think of something that needs your Mama Bear energy! Something for YOU! And, then, gracefully, allow that need to hibernate and get warm and grow.

XO

Jen

Hope

On my podcast, For Our Special Kids, at the end of each episode, I used to ask the question, “What is one word that you would use to describe a child with special needs?”

The word “hope” never came up. Looking back, I am actually shocked it didn’t but I’m also not shocked. Ha Because hope is absolutely NOT the word I would have used when I received Teal’s diagnosis. Sitting across from a calloused, been-in-the-industry-too-long, neurologist who had no bedside manner and should never have been delivering diagnoses to parents … I couldn’t have felt further from hope. Despair maybe. Confused, yes. Shocked, absolutely. And WITHOUT ANY hope, yes. Certainly not hope or hopeful.

But, that was over 5 years ago. So much can change in 5 years. Heck, so much can change in 5 months or 5 days. 5 minutes.

So, why would i use the word hope to describe a child with special needs? Aren’t they the farthest thing from hope? Don’t they struggle with everyday things like eating, dressing, walking, talking…almost everything? Most children with special needs, not all, struggle with something quite large each day. For my Teal, she’s struggling to express her needs and emotions with words. Oh, and eating too. And, selfcare. Ha…Teal struggles with lots. And, yet, I would absolutely use the word hope for my magical little girl.

Desmond Tutu once said, “Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.”

This is the hope for which I am referring and I imagine the others were as well. It is the light in the dark. A cool breeze drifting on a hot night. The rainbow appearing after the storm. The soft touch of your child’s hand. The caress of a lover after tears of sorrow.

It can be one brief moment in time that shifts all your perspectives. Hope is fleeting at times for us as parents and caregivers.

However, what if you look at your child with hope and you see hope within them? How does your perspective change? My daughter is the light in the darkness. She is the cool breeze, the rainbow, and the soft touch. She is the hope we need to see in this world.

Our children are the light. Our children are the hope. They are the ones who show us the way through the darkness. They are the ones taking our hand and guiding us on this journey. They are here to teach us to see a new perspective. They are here to help us evolve into better humans and to see our life on Earth with a new lens.  

We must begin to look through their eyes. And, when you do, you won’t see so much darkness in this world, in your life, in your days, in your moments…or in theirs. You will see the light.