Thank you for sunshine, thank you for rain.
Thank you for joy, thank you for pain.
This week was a doozy, y’all. The ups and the downs… well, they were a particular rollercoaster this week. Every night at dinner with my fiancée and kiddo, we recap our day with a “high, low, buffalo” (two of which are intuitive; the buffalo is something that surprised you that day). Each night this week, I had visceral experiences cataloguing the peaks and valleys, as I decided which moments of my day I would share with my family. By Thursday night, I was worn the fuck out from the emotional ride I’d been on. Is Mercury in Gatorade again (lol), or am I the only one experiencing this? I hope I’m not the only one who felt all the deep feels these last few days. (And, I must add this: a short prayer for mercy in the coming days/weeks/years.)
Some highlights: I met for coffee with a new friend who I connected with in Spin class (that’s the bougie-est sentence I’ve ever written), and we rambled around a variety of topics for an hour. She told me she’s also gotten sober recently (I’m coming up on two years without alcohol next month… more on that soon!). We talked about how raw things can get in sobriety, how attuned we’ve become to the subtle shifts in our moods, perspectives, personal needs, the whole shebang. We also realized during our coffee date that we shared the same amazing boss at different companies, a boss that we both loved and admired. This boss is actually my favorite of all bosses — he’s a man that continues to be a dear friend and trusted confidant. What a buffalo that was!
My daughter turned 8 this week, one of the contributing factors to the rollercoaster of emotions. Did I cry tears of joy as I reflected on the end of her days of being a needy infant/toddler? Yes, yes I did. Did I cry tears of grief for the end of those days, too? Yes, yes I did. She’s a magical little force of nature, and I am so damn grateful to watch her grow. But it really does slip by so quickly. I’m grateful for my sobriety and its ability to regularly force me into 100% presence with her. No longer dissociating with drinking most nights on the couch, I instead get to feel all the feelings (e.g. frustration, boredom, annoyance, if I’m being honest) as her bedtime routine drags on longer and longer as she does more and more things herself, without my supervision and hurrying her along. But then, once she’s settled down, there’s always that cozy snuggle time in her bed, her just-showered head under my chin, her little arms wrapped around mine as she burrows deeper into the comfort of her mama. I’m so grateful to be her comfort and her safe place. She brings so much joy to my life.
A very low low punctuated my week, too — the low happened to land on my lap on the morning of my daughter’s birthday, after I’d gotten home from walking her to the bus stop. It was one that wasn’t unexpected, but really sad, disappointing, and poorly timed nonetheless. They say you can’t choose your family, right? That’s true — you’re born into family, you’re powerless to the choices they make, to the way they treat you, and to changing the things they do that drive you crazy or aren’t based in reality. The reality for me is this: All I can do is make my choices, continue to act as the best possible version of myself in all my interactions and choices, offering grace and forgiveness, even if it’s not returned and not reciprocated in actions nor kindness. I look around — do a quick inventory of my life, my people, the energy that surrounds me, and I know. I’m making the right choices. I’m happy, held, and fully loved — even if I am a work in progress in some areas. I’m good, kind, loving, and compassionate. Any attempt to paint an alternate reality is just that — an alternate reality.
On that note, back to the highs: after I got the undeserved and unwelcome nasty-gram delivered to my home, I had the chance to last-minute substitute teach a yoga class and lead a group of lovely people through movement, breath, and meditation. After teaching, a sweet friend treated me to a birthday session at Fire & Ice, which was the hard reset that my central nervous system desperately needed. (I also got a workout in with her at Hi//low and saw MORE dear old friends, including my DOULA, who was with me through labor & delivery of Penelope, eight years ago to the day! BUFFALO!)
More highs: spending my daughter’s birthday evening with my mom, Penelope’s dad and his fiancée, and my fiancée, Carolyn, the woman I fell in love with when I was married to Penelope’s dad. Five years have passed since my world blew up upon meeting Carolyn and splitting from Penelope’s dad, but we are still a family. We still truly love, care about, respect, and enjoy being around each other. We spent Penelope’s birthday all together, out to dinner, then back at Carolyn’s and my house, opening presents and eating homemade coconut cake my mom brought. I know that this beautiful modern family is only possible because of the person that I am, and the people I choose to surround myself with — my chosen family. I am so very lucky.
During the yoga class I taught on Wednesday — my daughter’s birthday when I was feeling as low as I have in a long time — I talked to the students about having to take the good with the bad in life, how both are important and necessary. One can’t exist without the other. Near the end of class, I was walking around the students as they lay facedown in half pigeon pose. A new song queued up on my playlist, the first notes ringing through the sunny studio. As the lyrics began, they were perfect:
Lord, I thank you for sunshine,
Thank you for rain.
Thank you for joy,
Thank you for pain.
It’s a beautiful day-ay-ay-ay-ay.
It’s a beautiful day.