What I Consider When I Am Away.

Dear Ones,

I am away this week.

Lily’s SATs are done, early college applications are in, and she is away on her expedition in Colorado. In essence, my role as homeschool mom for the past 10 years is complete. 

I am away 1/ to check the patterns that have been gathered and refined during 10 years in this role. What served us well then will no longer serve and I don't want to go forward blind in my ways. So this is a chance to slow down, see the momentum and make space for new choices to arise. 

And 2/ to celebrate, to mark the occasion, to heal the thought of all the ways it could’ve been ‘better,' to make sure that this is concluded with respect for every effort. Looking back, it is tempting to think less of certain days, occasions I didn't acknowledge, courses I could've for them I could've given more time or depth. But I want to let the dust settle and trust that in every moment I was doing what I could.

I respect my past self. She is as wise as the present one. And tending to the way I think of my past will give my future self more courage because she isn’t afraid of criticism in retrospect.

I walked in gorgeous woods today and stood rooted in front of this sign:

You Are Here. And you can see where everything else is, and where you could go, and where you were when you started. I want this view. I want to step back and back and back from my life and see the sign saying You Are Here. I would know I was at a crossroads, i would see the distance ahead. 

Better yet, i would see this sign:

I would love to know the gradient upcoming.

Is it a mild downhill slope that feels like coasting?

Or maybe steep, slow, rough going?

And how long will it last? 

Some days I want the adventure of not knowing.

And some days, a sense of the gradient ahead and its duration seems miraculous.

This week away is giving me deep long hours of being with not knowing, of coming to rest in my maplessness. AND it is this very resting place that is also providing the reassurance that that not knowing is a safe place, a creative place, a supported place. 

My job is not the map or the terrain but the vehicle. I am becoming a 4x4, something where bumps and hills are fun, jostling the groceries and making me grab on to the side rails. My practice builds me an inner stamina that can settle into the long haul with a relaxed breath and see what’s on the other side, even if it means walking through the dark. I want a life with lots of people to stop and see along the way, to ply me with snacks and supplies and make the going a group effort.

I am away this week building my next vehicle and honoring my last one. HIt reply. Tell me of your week, or if not, pause and consider the state of your vehicle and let me know now I can help. 

Back soon.

All love, Martha