being

every time i speak i plant.
a seed of possibility.
so i want to speak life.
to myself:
i have been given 26 years thus far.
i am a child of God.
I am beautiful.
I am a husband.
I am humble.
I am alive.
I am open.
I am a father.
I am in awe.
I am in love.
I am resting.
I am excited.
I am patient.
I am wise.
I am becoming.
I am here, now...

These all are true. Yet, there can be such a deep defensiveness that guards my soul. i do not want to let life grow in my heart because it feels so wild - i'd rather hide. i do not want to give life to my wife kieran because it feels so weak - too much ego. but isn't now all i have. so let me try to take this next phone call at work with grace. it could be some anxious, stubborn, fearful mongrel of a person, who is desperately needing a seed of life. maneuvering the noise and confusion is where practice makes better. whether the noise of my mind that curses me and guards me. whether the confusion of my wife's reaction to a situation. there is an opportunity to receive life and give life. that's my goal.

and in this time of pregnancy that my wife and i are going through i have been pondering the concept of mother. i am contemplating the immensity of the reality: cells that join onto the inside wall of the mothers womb, grow into a human being and then depart as a separate entity.
i think that in some way, all of our lives we long for the womb. we want mother in each moment. the love we make and take, the pills we make and take - we want to find the comfort that we had in utero.
i think that the comfort is available to me everyday: a good conversation with my wife over a homemade meal, or playing in the garden. its not the same as the womb, not the same as mother, but it is the mother inside of me that is strengthened through these experiences of embracing beauty and life.
so, if i can just practice being aware of these opportunities to receive and give life, then i can take part in the healing that is the effect.

i may feel that old fear creeping in again, but it won't hold me back,
jamie