Phew. What a ride! This is meant to be a love letter, so I’ll be nice.
Thank you for teaching me that I am strong, that I can get knocked down and rise wiser and kinder. I bow to the lessons. Thank you for giving me the strength to keep going and for showing me that I am not alone.
And thank you for reminding me of how truly blessed I am! This life – wow.
Thank you for helping me to see that I am a good mom and that I have a great kid. He is my guru, my sage, and the littlest love of my life. Thank you for giving me the strength to wake up at all hours of the night, for being patient during his tantrums (sometimes), and for the magic he’s showing me in the world. Thank you for answering all of my prayers with that kid!
Thank you for the original love of my life – the kid’s dad and my partner in crime. I’m still not sure how I got to be so darn lucky… thank you!
Thank you for this home! When I was a little girl, I dreamt of a home like this – beautiful and serene, somewhere to live forever and always, a fireplace with stockings, and lots of rooms to fill with memories. Now I live here and I am in awe.
Thank you for the adventures and travels, for friends near and far, for chocolate and wine and lattes, for morning snuggles in bed and five seasons of Scandal.
Thank you for showing me that there is still so much to come. Thank you.
:: inspired by a Note of Gratitude by my dearest, Nikki Belcher and Love Letter by the ever-awesome, Elena Brower.
Life rarely goes according to plan when you’re trying to sell your house and move with a toddler. Life rarely goes according to plan when you’re dealing with a toddler – period. I naively started the Tiny Devotion’s #insanelyintentional challenge a few days ago and, not surprisingly, I’m already behind. 🙂
Let’s pretend day 6 was yesterday and today is day 7. Let’s.
Day 7’s assignment: to forgive someone.
I chose me – we’re often the hardest on ourselves and this is absolutely true in my case. Here goes.
I forgive you for being ordinary.
I forgive you for not being particularly beautiful, exceptionally smart, or one iota funny.
I forgive you for being serious, often too serious.
I forgive you for not accomplishing as much as you thought you would – you found a magical life instead.
I forgive you for not being a lawyer, a doctor, or a CEO – you’re a kick-butt mom, wife, and administrator instead.
I forgive you for not being the perfect earth momma you thought you’d be – sometimes the kid just wants a bagel with cream cheese for dinner and there’s no room for negotiations.
I forgive you for still having a soft tummy, 15 months later, and for being upset about it too often – croissants and wine are worth it.
I forgive you for not being able to bend into the perfect yoga pose for the perfect instagram pic (although lord knows you try) – sometimes it’s safer not to break things.
And so on.
I forgive you and I embrace you for all of the above… and I’ll forgive you in advance for when you lose this feeling and feel whiny and sh*tty again.
I embrace your ordinariness. It’s enough.
… then again, there comes a time when it’s best to unplug and delve inwards, to stop over-documenting life and start truly experiencing it instead.
That’s what I’m feeling and so, for the time being, we are retreating.
“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.” Walden
Some days I find myself complaining a lot. It’s ludicrous really because life is pretty darn amazing.
I have a baby boy who has brought me more joy than I ever thought was possible. He is happy and healthy. He eats and sleeps (kind of), and moves like there’s no tomorrow.
I have a husband who is my best friend and always makes me see the beauty in things.
I have three awesome families, a boatload of tremendous friends, a beautiful home to call my own, a job, and a fridge that’s always filled with food. You see? Life, it sure is sweet.
SO I’m proposing a wee challenge to myself to help keep my focus on the sweetness:
a pic a day and a word to go with it
… of something awesome, something I am grateful for, or just simply something that makes me smile.
You can follow it here: instagram.com/mayacollum
Life is short. Take too many pictures. Say thank you often. And always order sprinkles.
Today I woke up grateful. And happy, like deep down in my soul happy.
Today is my 30th birthday and it has been an absolutely perfect day.
Today I realized that all of my dreams have come true. Every single one.
It scares me to say that, as if saying it will bring something bad on, but there’s so much crap in the world that sometimes we all have to shout out loud about the good stuff.
And there’s a lot of good stuff everywhere.
So, dear world, thank you for making this gal feel so darn loved.
I’ve spent a lot of time wishing away moments and trying to “fix” things. Those are times I’ll never get back.
But these days I’m working on something new: being present, being here and now, and soaking up the moments so that I can remember many fondly one day.
And so that this will never again be my truth:
“What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner!” Colette
My favourite moment this week:
There’s a lesson I keep having to learn with Ryan. It’s this:
No expectations, no disappointments.
I was told that babies peak in their fussiness at 6-8 weeks. For Ryan, it lasted far longer than that. Depending on the day, it’s still going on.
Then there was the promise that after three months, everything would magically be better. For us, it got worse. My pro sleeper decided he wanted to get up every couple of hours to eat. Growth spurt? Maybe. Who knows?!
I struggled through all of this more so than I had to simply because I was expecting it to better. But here’s the thing: babies don’t operate on schedules. They aren’t predictable. Frankly, nothing in life is.
So my baby boy, my greatest spiritual teacher, has yet another lesson for me: let go of the expectations. Live in the moment as it is, not wishing for it to be something else, because you might just miss its magic.
P.S. The 108-day challenge is going well! I skipped yesterday due to a shoulder injury and a profound lack of sleep, but I made up for it to by doubling everything today. Wee! 🙂
6:40am. I’m actually starting to enjoy these early mornings.
The arctic freeze hit Toronto again and yesterday was just far too cold to take my munchkin out. So we put on our comfy pants and started the countdown to when daddy got home.
A few hours in, I had a thought – just how much of my life has been a countdown to something…
… to finishing high school
… to exams being over
… to graduating university
… to my wedding day
… to babies
… to my due date
… to when this horrid winter finally lifts
… and to the next phase of Ryan’s life
And in counting down, how many precious moments did I wish away?
If we’re always looking ahead, when do we ever arrive?
Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else but here and now, with a beautiful baby boy who will never again be five weeks, three days and one hour old.
Imagine your life as a quilt. There are pieces made up of past experiences, squares of personality traits, fabrics of previous loves and broken hearts… all woven together into the collage that is you.
Sometimes life can pull at the threads and the seams can come undone. As painful and vulnerable as this may be, it also presents an opportunity. The rough patches let us stop and consider how we might want to sew our quilt back together so that it’s stronger and more resilient.
Certain pieces will always remain – you can’t change your past. But others can be discarded – like those personality traits that no longer serve you (perfectionism, self doubt, regret, etc). And new pieces can be added – wisdom, strength, growth.
Every bump in the road is really just an opportunity to rewrite our story.
Yesterday Ryan celebrated one month of being on this planet. While the days were long, very long at times, the month somehow flew by.
A couple of weeks ago, when I was in the depths of new momma baby blues, a sage friend sent me these words:
The ancient Greeks had two concepts of time: chronos and kairos. Chronos is the inexorable grinding on of time without a foreseeable end—like when 5pm can’t come soon enough or that meeting just won’t end, or your kid won’t stop crying. Most of the time we find ourselves in chronos, wishing we could be on to the next thing. In contrast, kairos describes those rare and precious moments in which time seems to stand still—when we fall in love, when we are blissed out to our favourite song, or playing a sport, or generally doing anything we love. Importantly, it is the moments of kairos that make all that chronos worthwhile.
This is a metaphor for parenthood. Most of our days are spent in a state of fatigue or overwhelm or anxiety, and if we focus on that we miss the moments of kairos—like when your baby smiles at you and he is so perfect that it makes all those sleepless nights worthwhile, and you would do it again in a heartbeat. Look for the moments of kairos, because in this twilight time of new parenthood they will be your guiding light to the end of the tunnel.
I hope you find them as profoundly healing as I did. Thanks A! Major love.