One morning last week, Ada woke up with her characteristically bright eyes and sweet smile and I immediately asked her for a hug. She threw herself at me and I held her tight, reveling in the feel of her still small, warm body in my arms. She asked me for a hug (who am I to argue with that logic?), then her daddy. Her next logical step was to exchange a round of kisses and she moved my hair out of the way to press her lips into my cheek. Laying down and sighing contentedly she thought for a moment. Then, with the look on her face that tells us something is coming – something she’s quite proud of and we might or might not find appealing, she announced that she had a “great idea”.

Let’s kiss baby Benjamin.

Oh, I responded, not quite knowing what else to say.

She sat up, leaned forward and kissed my chest, right over my heart. Then her daddy’s. Then it was our turn to kiss hers.

16 months after his death, Benjamin’s big sister gave him his first kiss. And broke open my still-healing heart.

Today – November 25 – is the first anniversary of Benjamin’s due date. Though due date’s are really “anytime-either-side-of dates” when you’re having a live child, they are another emotional minefield to cross when all you have is a memory. As we head off to spend the day making Christmas crafts with friends, I am feeling incredibly blessed and more than a little bit sad.

I love you Benjamin. I miss you and I am so very, very grateful for your presence in our lives.

 

I wrote recently about being in a time of fallow, and being conflicted about it. I’ve felt a sense of urgency since the retreat ended to capitalize on the momentum of the guide coming out, and the retreat being such a success. My ego has been demanding that I spend more time on Twitter/post more frequently/madly cross things off my to-do list. My heart has been whispering for me to sleep, do yoga, allow the time and space for the massive growth that is happening in my life.

There is a shift coming for me. I am on the edge of something that’s going to turn the internal fires up a thousand degrees. I don’t know how long it will take to arrive, or what it will look like when it appears. I’ve been trying to force it. I’ve been taking time to go inward while still expecting myself to show up in unsustainable ways. Every time I read the words of Danielle LaPorte, Alex Franzen, Jen Louden, Goddess Leonie, and Dyana Valentine, (to name just a few), my eyes widen, my thoughts race and I want to leap into action. There’s so much I want to DO. I’ve been resisting the voice inside that is telling me to slow down. To let go. To trust.

The revelation that has come this past week is that inspired action and slowing down aren’t mutually exclusive if I let go of the thought that I need to be there now. I can get more sleep and spread the word about the pregnancy loss support group I’m starting. I can meditate and journal and answer my emails. But I can only do this if I truly let go and trust that there is time.

I am giving myself permission to be where I am, permission to relax and follow where my heart leads. I don’t know if it’s the most effective way to be an entrepreneur but I do know it’s the only sustainable, joyful way to be me. I trust that the time of fallow will be followed by a time of planting, then harvesting. I am not looking for balance, something I believe is unattainable the way we talk about it in our society, with our life pie charts and working parent guilt. I am seeking the joy that comes from honoring self and serving others, from deep connection with my inner and outer worlds, from valuing my heart, my instincts, my intuition as much as I value my mind and the teachings of those I admire.

I am refining my practice of self-care. And it is a practice. There is no there, no ideal way to be, no way to know when I’ve achieved the long-desired perfection of knowing how to take care of myself. Right now it is clear that my body needs more sleep and consistent exercise. My spirit needs daily yoga and meditation. I need to write in order to feel fulfilled. I’m listening to those deep calls of the soul and taking the time to act on them, even when it feels impossible. And I am forgiving myself when I fall down, when I stay up too late, when I miss a day of yoga because I’ve got a cold and my body wants simply to rest.

The practice of self-care is a practice of love.

For a moment today, take the time to get quiet, and listen to your deepest, most knowing self. What practice does it want you to start?

Then choose whether or not to listen. No blame. No guilt. Only love.

It is okay to be gentle with yourself.

It is okay to treat yourself with the tenderness usually reserved for a newborn child.

It is okay to set the day’s intentions gently aside and look for solace, for comfort, for peace, for a taste of joy.

It is okay to be raw, even when the grief is old.

It is okay to lay down, to stop, to rest.

With deep love for your wounded heart and compassion for your humanity,

Tell yourself,

Believe yourself,

It is okay.

Today I’m sharing inspiration, beauty and goodness from around the web. I needed some. I wondered if you might too.

Have you seen Kristin Noelle’s new Trust Tending and the Internet? It’s full of love, encouragement and adorable sketches. Download (it’s f*ree!) here.

Siany is the face of Spirit of the Blog, a site dedicated to helping healing practitioners market themselves on the web, and one of my personal angels on earth. She took the “cave bag” idea from the Picking Up the Pieces guide, and ran with it. So fun.

I have recently fallen in love with Eric Klein’s words and sketches over at Wisdom Heart. His newsletters always reach deep into my soul. They are practical, funny and wise. I highly recommend.

Jen Louden’s latest post made me stand up and do a little “Amen” dance. I have more to say about that, but I’ll save it for another post.

Amy Oscar inspires me. Always. This post in particular. Notice a theme here?

Wishing you a day of deep connection and divine inspiration. 

With so much love,

Alana