“Welcome to the end of being alone inside your mind
Tethered to another and you’re worried all the time
You always knew the melody but you never heard it rhyme
She’s fair and she is quiet, Lord, she doesn’t look like me
She made me love the morning, she’s a holiday at sea.
The New York streets are as busy as they always used to be
But I am the mother of Evangeline.
The first things that she took from me were selfishness and sleep
She broke a thousand heirlooms I was never meant to keep
She filled my life with color, cancelled plans and trashed my car
But none of that is ever who we are…”
Loved this playing on my home office juke box, ‘The Mother’ by Brandi Carlile. That line about how our teenage rebellions and angst are not who we are. I so wish that I was a holiday at sea, how beautiful. I was settling little one to sleep last night and trying to remember what the yogi word for easy was, ‘sukha.’ I think it is sukha, that sweet spot. Motherhood is just that, the everyday search and rescue of sukha. Yes please to ease, happiness, bliss and good space!
I went for a sea swim at Port Soif this morning, at high tide. It was f*cking freezing and I hated every minute of it! My toes protested all the way home. Nobody wanted to say hello this morning, or share a smile, or chat either. That made me want to yell ‘f*ck you then!’ but I held it all in. We get so religious about open water swimming and forget that it’s supposed to feel sh*tty for a long time before that sweet sukha vibe takes hold after a complete and absolute surrender into the icy ecstasy of the divine sublime sea. Unless you are reptilian?