A Beautiful Embrace
A Beautiful Embrace
I’m fumbling in the upper kitchen cabinet above the microwave when I realize the green glass bottle I want is gone.
My son is in the kitchen, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Old patterns rapidly creep in and I immediately blame him for the missing bottle. It is true, he is most likely the culprit, but…
Me: “I can’t stand it when my things are missing! You’re always take my stuff and then I never see it again! It’s so maddening! STOP. LOSING. MY. STUFF. This cabinet up here is MINNNNNEE. Don’t touch it anymore.”
Misplaced Anger
My son: “How in the hell am I supposed to know that, Mom!!”, he says is an appropriately reactive, defensive, not-so-nice tone. “You never told me the stuff in there is off limits.” He frustratingly slings open the fridge door to show me a bottle on the bottom shelf w an old, wrinkled brown bag over it and a sign that says, “Boys, do not touch! This is Mom’s.”
“You told me about this, and I’ve NEVER touched it! You can’t expect me to know things without telling me, Mom.” he says, in a way that snaps me out of my self-righteous fog.
In the past, I likely would have kept arguing my stance, but I immediately softened. My whole body shifted into soft mush, and I said, “I am so, so sorry. I really don’t like it when I snap like that. I do see this pattern, and I’m going to break it.”
The shields over our hearts came down, swords thrown off to the side, and like magnets, we gravitated together for a tender + sweet, heart-to-heart embrace. I felt tears in my eyes, and believe he had the same. I felt so badly about my unexpected, undeserved words + had instantaneously regretted them. In this precious moment, he knew it.
We hugged for a long while. Then, he said with such depth + sincerity, “I love you so much, Mom.”
“I love you, too, son.”
Never Give Up
It’s in these transformational moments that we know things are fundamentally shifting deep inside. Somehow, I know these subtle, yet powerful displays of deeper + greater love are evidence of unraveling the old, un-serving energies of the past; of an ego face that no longer has a place in my being.
Thank you to my son for always being one of my most potent + patient teachers. Thank you, Me, for continuing to hold on as I walk this spiritual path. It is not one for the weary. It takes ruthless self-scrutiny and honesty. It takes a will to never spiritually bypass. It is a very humbling walk, yet one I’d never replace.
