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this abundant journey

In life, there is abundance in everything if we are open to see and receive it. This is my abundant journey raising two "healthy" children and a son with cerebral palsy. This is what my son is here to teach… acceptance and the true importance of life.

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Just finished bathing my baby, who's actually turning into quite the little man. Sometimes I wonder if calling him my baby will always resonate with me. He'll always be my baby, but the accuracy of the word sends my mind into deep solitary philosophical conversations. "It'll always be appropriate because he is forever my baby, yet I want to honor him and his stages", and so on. It's an incredible feat bathing all of his 65 pounds. Today instead of rushing out and rushing on to the next thing, like I so often do, I'm taking a minute to just be and come back to me. Not long ago, I set out to finally find the deepest parts of me where I buried them years ago underneath layers of heartache and apology. To ask their forgiveness and thank them for waiting patiently until I was ready. So, in case you've forgotten, like I too often did, a little affirmation for us all... _____ Woman you are divinity in motion. With each breath you manifest. Hands that mold, shape, guide. Womb, a portal continuously creating, manifesting. Mind swelling with dreams in wait. Intuition stirring, signaling the way. Take time, pause, and remind yourself of your greatness. _____ I wake. I mend. I soothe. I massage. I comfort. I protect. I change. I clean. I measure. I calculate. I study. I document. I concoct. I assess. I envision. I collaborate. I arrange. I schedule. I record. I coordinate. I instruct. I transport. I attend. I prepare. I serve. I listen. I counsel. I love. I write. I breathe. I smile. I laugh. I stretch. I ponder. I release. I bathe. I sleep. My notifications buzzed, a text. Pictures from my daughter. She's been spending the summer finding her voice behind a camera's lens. I love to see her thoughts. As I scrolled and smiled there was my niece, my first baby. They're at the beach. I paused and grinned as my heart swooned at the beauty that is she. And I thought... I have lived through so. many. of her moments. Her stages. Her periods. Her right nows. Like the one where she refused to eat anything but soft boiled eggs, feeding her was joyous during that time. And when she couldn't say her t's, so every truck that we passed she would say "look tia, a fuck", she didn't even notice my laughter. ___ And at that moment, what I was seeing... I just hope that she can see that. I know that I, as a Black woman, went through this period where it felt like maybe the universe had gotten it wrong. There was a time when "You're pretty for a black girl" was actually a compliment that I would accept. I hadn't quite figured out what to do with all of the... difference that I'd been given, it takes a while for many brown girls to realize the uniqueness that is your presentation to the world is actually a stunningly beautiful gift, an expression of the divine herself. In fact, you feel like you should probably hide it. Smother it. Suppress it. Smooth its corners. Soften it. Turn the saturation down on its brilliance. and the messages from the world reinforce that. Until one glorious morning, you awaken. You look at the thickness of your lips, the shade of your brown, the kink of your hair and a smile starts to form at the corners of that enviable pout as you nod your head to the universe, your mother, and your father in thanks for the creation that you see before you. I hope that she has experienced that day. ___ You are the divine experiencing itself in one of numberless forms. You are quite literally God's imagination. Whatever you want is yours and everything that you are is perfection. She's watched over me since my mind can recall, and now she hangs on my walls watching over my babies. On quiet days I light sacred copal, share space with her, and search those piercing eyes for her truths and wisdom. Thank you queen. It's started. ___ #beachbums #beachchillin #beachinit #laplaya #calilivin #californialove #westcoast #myson #mycub #mylegacy #thatsmybaby #momlife #mamatribe #blacklove #afrolatino #blackboyjoy #blackjoy #blackboyfly I can't believe that this endangered little oak baby is happily blowing in the breeze in my yard. I searched high and low for nearly a year for this beautiful little twig. I finally found one at a native nursery, immediately ordered it, and put it straight in the ground when it arrived. Annnnddddd drove around town obsessively until I found an oak tree that I could salvage fallen leaves from to make it happy in its new home. ___ These oak trees are native to my area and cover my favorite hiking spot. When I found out that they are endangered, I had to do my part and plant one. I can't wait gather the acorns she gives, so they can be germinated to help protect these gorgeous trees. ___ #crazyplantlady #plantbabies #engelmannoak #urbanecology #growfoodnotlawns #nativeplants #californianativeplant #california #canativeplants #coastalsagescrub #droughttolerant #landscapedesign #sustainabledesign #gardening #organicgardening #oaktrees #ilovetrees #treelovers #treeporn #treestagram #laspilitasnursery Spent the morning in my personal version of heaven and came back bearing crystals, incense, and books for my little bibliophile. ___ A book that reads "You are a dream that the world once dreamt and now you are part of its song. That's why you are here, in the place where you're meant, for this is right where you belong." is a book that needs to be read to my little man. ___ @whitster678 your company and humor remain unmatched. It had been far too long, let's make it sooner next time. Spring break shenanigans with this motley crew. Guess who'd rather be home watching Mickey on the tv? I just had an exchange with a beautiful human. My day was already good and she left me better. ___ She touched on fear of humanity and I thought, what are so many humans afraid of? We're all inescapably human. Why do so many want to escape humanity, our reality? Or, at least escape what we feel makes us look weak or makes us uncomfortable with the rung on the ladder, assembled by our ego, that we perceive living in our truth places us on. Reality is beautiful, and glamorous, and hilarious, full of love, and mundane, regular, and confusing, and painful, sad and angry, hateful and vulnerable. The illusory stories that we are willing to tell only feed the emptiness of the hallucination we've created, and deemed ultimately important, that we know is fantasy, but still fight to make our reality. Liberation is in truth. Power, bravery, and strength are in the true stories of every part of our experience. Though it feels comfortable to build a cocoon of falsified perfection around us, I participated in conformity to painted perceptions and illusions of perfection, the magic is in exposure, in showing what's under the armor that we kill ourselves to polish and pretend is the entirety of our being. ___ I had people unfollow me because of the story that I posted about my son the other day. Pepsi has Kendall Jenner handing out sodas to angelic police officers as crowds of varying shades of brown cheer. And I ask myself, is illusion that analgesic that it feels better than the potential of our improved reality? Telling our story, as it is, so that we can listen, accept, change, and evolve. The lovely, the ugly, the brilliant, the dark. All of it. That's where it's at. Reaching out to say you were on my mind how are you, I'm unafraid to acknowledge my humanity and care about yours, that's the magic. Supporting the light workers putting in work by exposing themselves to move us from illusion to reality, that exchange is a source of power. There's such a beautiful movement of humans putting everything on the line to expose themselves, tell their stories transparently, and support each other. Thank you to everyone who courageously participates. I appreciate you. Today is National Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day. I am the proud mother of a beautiful son, who has cerebral palsy. I was torn about posting today, because what was on my heart to post goes against the traditional face that we like to give to our children. We show their joy because they are pure light. We show their achievements because not being able to control their muscles has no affect on the brilliance of their minds. We show their triumphs because they are the essence of perseverance. We show them dressed up to say, "look, my child is a normal, and lovable, and beautiful being"! We show the equipment that they depend on, to normalize it, because we depend on it and because without it their lives would be confined, or in the case of my son would cease to exist. ___ I decided to follow my heart because awareness isn't pure if we won't allow the light into the darkness. We can't support each other, or have others truly see us, if we're not willing to expose our entire experience. We as parents and caregivers should relieve ourselves of the pressure to pretend that there isn't sadness, and dark days aren't there. True healing comes from going through the darkness, experiencing it, and coming out on the other side. ___ Despite how it may seem because I use Instagram as an outlet for some of my deepest emotions, our lives are joyful, and abundant, and fortunate. My son is beautiful. All that I see when I look at him is beauty, and love, and strength, but there are days when it is hard. His life is the source of my greatest gifts, but also my deepest sorrow. I thank him every day for molding me into the person that I am today. ___ Today I'm sharing a peek at the tough side. I'm sharing something that I wrote on one of the dark days. I wrote it on day 4 of a juice fast, no less, so it was especially dramatic. ___ To those who share my journey, I see you and I send you tremendous love and understanding.💚 ___ I left my writing in the comments, if you'd like to read it...

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  • Jennifer
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My Rearranged Life

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

WeekendSprout's Mini Garden

Locally Grown, Right from My Backyard in the City

I'm The Mom

Marathon Parenting in a Sprinter's World

my (dis)abled life

a mile in my wheelchair

Tales of a Tigerlilly

A mum and her girl

Mama C and the Boys

2009 All Rights Reseved C. Anderson

wawoo

the extraordinary life of an unusual soul.

Jennifer's story

arteriovenous malformation, hydrocephalus, cerebral palsy, blind, epilepsy and a great big heart!

heartcrossedpaths

Just another WordPress.com site

Seize the YAY!

PsychMamma

No delusions of grandeur. Plenty of anergia.

a Rearranged Life

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