Expansion, and being bound

I am looking at the moon, and thinking both of expansion, and being bound.

I forget. I so often forget that I am a Russian nesting doll, with so many lifetimes inside of me. I've lived in other cities, I've had a big life. Teardrops are here, and on the streets of New York.

How do you ever properly close a chapter? This one has been long. The one where I am a single mom. I've been a single mom, on my own for so long now, I can't imagine what it wouldn't be like.

This is the one where I own my own my own little condo. The space that I call home for myself, and my boy. This little space of the world. This tiny square of earth...how can it feel so small, and so vast?

I think of when I was in elementary, and I was so aware of the weight of my being and the space I took up. If I stood in the corner of my room, that is all I would occupy in the world. But I felt so much bigger than what I realized I was restricted to.

I think of how ancient I was, when I was new. I think of my boy, and wonder how he experiences his being, and wonder if he is aware of his vastness or his restriction.

I am many lives packed neatly into one, wondering how you ever say goodby, or move forward, propelled into the unknown again and again...

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April first.

Taking control of your healing.
Protecting your energy.
Nurturing your happiness in the face of whatever life is throwing your way.
That.

I was made to feel I wasn't entitled to my own happiness. 
I began to understand.
I would no longer cast my pearls before shells, rather than souls.

My world expands.
I've been given back to myself.

Spring strengthens me.

Many attempts have been made to clip my wings.
I refuse. 
Nobody gets to take them from me.

Hear me loud and clear when I roar the following...


My story will have a different ending. And that's okay. 


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The boy.

I can recall where I was four years ago instantly. Physically, I was wrapping up a temporary stay in NYC. I'd gone back for a few months to remember what it was like to be a student again, and immersed myself in classical training. Emotionally, it was the worst time of my life. 2012 wrecked havoc on my heart, head, and soul. We'd lost my uncle that May. He was lost to me in a slew of other losses that year, varying for me in degrees of devastation. I'd been shattered, and I was trying to rebuild. His birthday (the first he would not be there for) was November 9. On November 10, I saw a play. I left on a high. I came back to where I was staying only to find out via face-time that my Grandpa had just died. I could't get home fast enough. I'll never forget that feeling. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. 

Four years later, everything I've lost has come back to me in a new form. All that loss cleared out space for me to gain so much. I truly believe that must happen, and I am left even more amazed at the way birth and death are, in fact, one. 

But there's a final piece from 2012 that I've never shared, because it didn't click for me until recently. And four years later on the birthday/departing day anniversaries, here it is. 

Four years ago I had what can only be described as a vision. I wrote bout it here.https://theshapeshiftingpoet.blogspot.com/2015/04/neither-here-nor-there.html I was in Southern Utah for my my grandpa's funeral. Falling asleep, I saw as clear as day my grandpa and uncle outside in a beautiful clearing. The sun was bright. The sky bright blue. The grass and trees around them a vibrant green. They were young, and they looked so good! They had with them a toddler. A boy. He was as blonde as can be. They were all so happy, playing with him. Doing that thing you do with little kids where you hold their hands and spin them around so their feet are off the ground. It was very real. It was happening, or had happened, wherever they were. I didn't know who the toddler was, but they seemed to be taking care of him. 

I thought about it from time to time over the years, but it didn't hit me until recently who that boy was...

For the Squirrel and the Bluebird, who continue to give. 

DM 

A promise to my baby

A promise to my baby

Becoming a mother is a complete transformation. When I became one last month, I felt nothing short of having been reborn a completely new species. I even experienced inhabiting my physical body differently. I felt so fragile, small, and new. 

While I was pregnant I tried to enjoy it, but honestly I couldn't wait for it to end. I wanted my baby out, here with us. I'm better with what I can see with my own eyes and touch with my own hands. The unknown was stressful to me. All I could do was long for the future.

I'm a firm believer that we control how time passes. Just think about the way one day can fly, another drag when they have the same amount of hours. We spend a lot of our time reflecting on the past, or waiting for the future. Living in the present is the hardest thing we humans have to master.

After childbirth, the way I experienced time completely changed. 

Now that my baby is finally here, I understand the concept of time like never before. I have now lived through a pregnancy and birth, two of the biggest life-altering experiences a woman can have. I see that it's possible to get through, and that there's no way out but through. Above all, I see that all is temporary. Concepts I knew prior, but now run incredibly deep. Through my being, through my soul. 

I read a quote once that said something like, "everyone, everything, everywhere, ends." I don't want to miss a single phase of him. Everything else can wait. Life will resume before I know it. The days of hibernating with my newborn son will end. I want to memorize him him exactly as he is right now, and in each moment.

My promise to my baby is to always be present with him.

Time feels tangible. It feels urgent. It doesn't lag, and it doesn't jump ahead. I see how much my son has grown in just one month. With this new life comes the gift to truly see and experience living in the moment. That's him. And I promise to be present for every phase, every age, every day.


Special thanks to Walmart and Pampers for parenting with me for the #MothersPromise challenge.


Thanks for reading.

Oh, and moms! Since there's little time to go anywhere, and we run out of diapers in the blink of an eye, be sure to place an order for a giant box of Pampers from Walmart who will deliver them right to your front door. I just got my delivery and let me tell you, I'm so appreciative of the little things that can make life a bit easier now that I'm a mom!  Click here.   



Deena Marie




Sponsored Post. 

HALFWAY!

The way life can completely change within only one year is mind blowing. Every so often, an entire lifetime is crammed into just one year. I've only experienced this one other time, in 2012. It's was then and is now, a complete rebirth. Here we are in 2015, with a lifetime having taken place in the last 11 months. And once again, it's leaving me completely and forever altered. Only this time, my life is being added to. Things aren't being taken away from. Everything balances out over time. My year of great loss has lead me to my year of great gain. I'm halfway through my pregnancy. I'm 21 weeks along as of yesterday. The 20 week ultrasound was a game changer. Finding out the gender early (late August) gave us plenty of time for things to sink in. We went from thinking we were having a girl to being so in love with our son that my eyes well up with tears every time I think about him. Which is all the time. I feel it in my bones, this was exactly as it was meant to be. He is exactly who is meant to come to us. This also meant that by the time we had our 20 ultrasound and saw him so clearly, I already knew who was in there. What a change from the first ultrasound two months prior, when I my feeling was overwhelmingly, "who is that?" This time, I knew him. It was a long appointment. One where I felt like I got to spend the afternoon with him. I got to hang out with him. And I know him now. It's taken me to a very spiritual and deep place with him. The most mind blowing this about this, something I never could have guessed would happen, is how it feels to have a soul inside me. It is the most profound, divine, spiritual experience I never knew existed. Another soul. My son's soul is in my body. It is only temporary. We are in the same body for only four and a half more months. For some reason, through this pregnancy, I have not been scared of the pain of childbirth. This was something I feared my entire life. Then I got pregnant, and it just seemed like something I could do. Or I should say, something I was suddenly willing to do. Even more so now. I'll do whatever it takes to protect this soul and bring him to the world safely. Below are pictures of me through January 2015 - now. What transformation. What rebirth. In every sense of the word. He's forever changed me already. 

Jnuary 2015. I'd been sick and hadn't had much of an appetite. I'm not quite this thin all the time.

This is my regular pre-pregnant body. I started documenting at the beginning of the year in hopes that this was the year I'd be pregnant.

My first attempt at a picture to document any changes. I wasn't seeing much yet, but weeks 15 - 17 brought the first of the changes. 

Something's happening!

And to think I thought this was big! This was the last I saw of any abs or hipbones! Bye bye, hope to see you again someday! 

And here we are. A few blogs back I wrote about my fear of losing my pre-baby body, just when I'd come to be a woman who loves and appreciates her body. I find myself having struggles from time to time, but I'm slowly learning to appreciate what my body is capable of. This becomes easier as time goes on and things get more real. Life is pretty incredible. The fact that I'm here at this time, that I met my husband, that he loved me back, that we made a life. It just doesn't get any more powerful than that.  Because we chose to try to (and were able to) have a baby, this specific life is coming into being at this specific time. I am the vessel to bring him here. Because of my specific parents and my mother being the vessel, I get to be here. I want to savor every moment of this, but I also want to see him in person so badly I can't stand it. It's like being little and waiting for Christmas. Times a million.

I have chosen not to share ultrasound photos, because I feel way too protective. I am constantly torn every time I talk about my pregnancy on social media, because so many people I don't know have something to say (it's almost always good), but I feel so private and protective of him, and this time. I'm not interested in unsolicited advice (unless I know, love, and trust you). I'm not interested in the "but just wait until you…" since this is my journey, I am where I am each day, and I am choosing to to savor each moment of my journey at a time. All of this experience is extremely valid, and extremely personal, as I live it for the first time each new day.  I'm torn between wanting to share the things that seemed like such a mystery before I was a mom-to-be, and not wanting to say a word.

We'll see how it goes. 

DM 

Pieces

I came across a piece of paper with some bits of words and poetry while spring cleaning.  I wanted to hurry and put them here before I lost them for good.  I've been so busy lately with starting a new job, getting ready to go back to school, meeting with advisors, photo shoots, various other appointments, and filming for youtube.  My head is spinning! Nothing is ever spread out.  Life always feels full blast or standing still.

I'm also going to be writing more this year, and sharing it through spoken word on my youtube channel.  I'm very excited about this.  I've already put up my first.  I wanted to just do it and feel it out, with no outside influences.  Now that it's done, I'm ready to delve deep.  I've spent my day off watching some incredible online spoken word performances.  My learning has begun, and I'm off to see some locals next week.

I always have bits of poems and stories in me but I haven't had a chance to get them all out this week.  I managed the beginnings of something the other day and jotted it down before I left for work.

Here are the pieces of all of the above.  I think I'll start giving you pieces here more often.  When they come and I can catch them before they've gone.

You can translate however you like.

When you wonder how they might pertain...well...sometimes they mean nothing.

And sometimes they mean everything.


* * * * *
3.21.2013

Sometimes I am rendered immobile with worry
I will never be capable of loving anything
but the unattainable


* * * * *
2012

I feel in words.
I document as the only way I know how.
In poem.


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Spring 2012 (probably April or early May)

So many pairs of eyes fixed upon a monitor of sorts
that none of us can read or speak or translate
to any sort of comfort or explanation
I cannot take my eyes off my mother.
I see her as she must have ben at five.
She is a child.
Right down to the ponytail she wears
at her big brothers bedside.
We wait.
One collective breath.
This room is so full.
So silent and so full.
The air is rich.
Absolutely rich with memories.
It is palpable.

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