The Expansion of Divinity

I am exhausted.  I don’t know if it’s the new baby or the effects of this new mercury retrograde.  What I know is that yesterday I was pushed to the ultimate limit of my emotions.  I lied in bed at 6 pm with tears rolling quickly, soft sighs, and an intense heartache. I placed my hands over my heart and felt it move in a way that was foreign, yet familiar. My breathing helped ease the movement.  I don’t know how else to express the emotions. It could be the lack of sleep, feeding a five month old every few hours.  It could be the intense astrological and cosmic movements.  It could be that I just need sleep and rest and the comfort of knowing that my daughter will be okay.  As I hold her baby in my arms I am filled with joy.  As I put her down I am saddened that my daughter can’t feel the joyous privilege of understanding this little soul.  I don’t think she will ever cognitively live it.

You want to know God?  Hold a baby and look into their eyes.  They just came from that magical place.  They smell like heaven most of the time, and when they search for your eyes they demand complete presence.  It is no wonder my emotions have been topsy-turvy.  This business of raising a child is extraordinary.  I didn’t know I would be doing it all over again from scratch.   My youngest child graduates from high school this week.  And, yet, here I am starting over for however long it may be.

The other morning I spoke to a very good friend of mine who had been traveling through Europe.  We caught up within minutes.  As I related the events of the past two months she didn’t skip a beat, “It doesn’t surprise me…none of this surprises me!  You are meant to be a mother.  That’s your greatest job.  Apparently this is your destiny.”  To my dismay I understood her.  I have to believe she’s right.  I feel my heart expand when I hold the baby in my arms, even through waking every three hours in the night.  I see her little eyes searching for my acknowledgment, “Hey you, I am here.  See me?  I see you!”

Life moves forward but its lessons expand outward, inward, and every direction.  I don’t know how long this new phase and process of having her here will last.  Mental illness is not fixable.  There’s no cure for my daughter.  There’s rehabilitation, teaching, and many forms of adjustment.  My heart has been tugged, pulled and pushed to the extremes.  I am not alone in this journey. The only difference is that I have gone through the parenting trap and lessons before.  My anticipation, anxiety and humanness kick in because I have known this path and the things it holds.

I cannot “suck up” the emotions.  I have no way of keeping them inside.  I have to allow them to release when they need to be exposed.  I cannot ignore events like I used to for the larger part of my life.  I was always sick: emotionally, physically and spiritually.  This is a new dawn.  The expansion of love is endless.  Holding this baby is showing me what I never saw in my twenties: Divinity staring back.  When she searches for my eyes nothing else matters around her.  She expects my undivided attention, holds a haze and forces me to stop whatever else is inside of me.  In those eyes I see the universe.  In her smile I find the spiritual connection to life.  This is all that matters right now.  The mere simplicity of being present is why we are here.

So perhaps I shouldn’t blame it on the astrological movement of Mercury or the stars.  I shouldn’t blame it on the sleepless moments.  I am being rubbed and polished into anew. The expansion of my consciousness is in constant process.  As I write this she sits in her swing, our dog at her feet, the porch door is opened allowing the rainy morning to visit us with a breeze.  This is completely different from anything else…before…until now.  Everything is changing.  I am witnessing the growth and expansion of my soul with this presence.

Throughout the world people go to church, or religious establishments, to find God on Sunday mornings.  Today I hold God in the form of a child.  My sermon sits inches away from me.  I am moved by nature: that of a child and watching the earth unfold next to her.  I cannot imagine the divine speaking through any other way.  Have a blessed day, my friends!

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18 thoughts on “The Expansion of Divinity

  1. Melanie

    I think you are right on point my friend. And I agree with the other friend who said being a mother is your destiny. It’s one of your many gifts. I also believe this little bundle of light SOUGHT YOU OUT. It’s meant to be, for however long.Never suck up those emotions for they are of God, too. I’m just a hop-skip away if you need me. Seriously. Love you. ❤

  2. Your envisioning and re-envisioning of maternal wisdom and strength through the eyes of this baby–your granddaughter- is what brings the strength of the divine to you and those you love. Your friend is right: mothering is your calling. Your words reverberate in my bones as I read this–as one who has selected a variety of mother figures to carry through at different times, I sense you also have this gift. You are a blessing Millie. -Renee

  3. God bless you all. I don’t have anything brilliant to say but my heart breaks for the emotional roller coaster, for your daughter. But joy to that baby who has a mother who does indeed love her and is capable of doing so.

  4. I believe there is a moment when we suddenly realize that living is a moment by moment thing, that the stars are always aligned, and truth sits just where it always has, waiting us to see.

    And o, I so understand the movement foreign to the heart. ❤ Somehow, even the pain of perception is a glorious feeling. Have a beautiful day, my lovely friend. ~ B

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