Endings and Unknowable Beginnings
Navigating transitions with presence, grace and yes, a lot of tears.
When I close my eyes, I see them.
The Grandmothers. Unbidden, these ancestral spirits have been present when I close my eyes over the last few months. They sit by a river, and one shakes a rattle. Another tends a fire. Often, they sing. I didn’t want to know (but I knew) why they were here - so close without being called.
A karmic cycle is coming to a close.
A lifetime ago, I stood in the kitchen, eight months pregnant, hands on my belly, and I said a prayer. Anchoring in an intention that set powerful magic in motion. I asked, “Please let it end here. Please let me be the mother this child needs. Help me to halt the legacy of trauma, violence, and addiction in our families of origin.”
That child - my girl - is eighteen now, with bright eyes, a big heart, and a breathtaking presence (no, it’s not just me, I hear it from others as well), and my work in this phase of her life is coming to a close. Of course, I will always be her mother, but her eyes are raised to the horizon, and she is on the precipice of her life adventure. My intention, my prayer, has come to fruition.
She is ready.
In many ways, this is my specialty. I have walked through so many transitions with my beloveds - eleven moves in twenty years, navigated nine different schools with Clara, a global pandemic, a master’s degree completed during said pandemic, two long and painful separations from Erick during deployments, retirement, and moving into civilian life, post-military service. And now, she will graduate in a few weeks and head off to University in four short months.
This feels so different - I always had a sense of what would be after other transitions and that we would be there together. I knew what my role was, but this? I don’t know what happens on the other side of this particular completion. All I know for sure is that I want to be here for every moment, every second, as I walk her to the place where she will take off and fly.
She is ready.
So I breathe and practice staying right here.
And it feels like the ground is moving beneath me as my identity as a woman who has a child at home falls away. I notice I want to see through the haze of tears and find solid ground, a future where I’ve found my place beyond this joy and grief born of so much love and gratitude.
And so the Grandmothers sit vigil as this part of my journey as a mother comes to a close. They tell me I’ve done good work, and you know what? I believe them.
To you, I say, I see you. I know that so many of the women I circle with and have the privilege of coaching are fiercely committed to their healing and to embodying a different legacy in their own lives, for future generations, and for the world. Whether you have children or not, I honor your devotion to being the cycle-breaker and the change-maker.
If you are a regular reader, thank you - I appreciate your presence. In the coming months, you may see less of me in your inbox or on social media as I navigate this moment of our lives and serve my amazing individual clients. If you have a question or you want to reach out, please do. We all thrive on connection.
Oh my gosh! This is beautiful!
So perfectly expressed. Soak in every moment.
And having both of my guys fly the coop the same year, I know what you are going through. The connection doesn't end but it does shift. The ground does shake as we find a new cadence.
Love you so much!