the wisdom found in my mother body

I find myself a week out of Christmas, just two days out of our New Years celebration standing in front of a mirror...in a swim suit... looking like the Ghost of Christmas past (a past filled with one too many cookies, thank you), nervous that I will soon grace the decks of a cruise ship looking less than my best.

Then, as I lay with my son, tucking him in for the night, he tells me "you are the perfect kind of soft.", and as I laugh away his remark telling him that perhaps mama shouldn't be so very soft, he looks up at me startled and says, "don't lose all your mama"; I realize there's truth here too...

The awkward full of my height that was reached at age twelve;

somehow does not look as precariously far from the ground on me as it did then.

Those once gangly, string bean arms, that flailed about in excitement;

wrap perfectly around car seats to serve a juice box, find a lost toy or retrieve a fallen blanket.

A belly, then scooped half moon in, waiting for the full of my life to begin;

now has seen the swell of life harbor inside me twice,

soft now from the remembrance.

Oh, those dancer legs that went from here straight to the sky, the gate of steady determination;

have now carried the weight of sleeping babies,

paced slow miles into the rugs around their beds

weary, tired, but they've never failed me.

photo credit: John Christian Adams

Hipbones that were hard, angular, decisive;

now have been worn smooth by

lessons that sharp and strong should never be chosen over gentleness and love,

releasing control to allow life to softly guide you

That youthful voice, so sure, loud with proclamations,

ready for battle cries to move mountains;

lives now within the power of hushed tones,

traded in soapboxes for lullabies,

knowing I change the world through the truth I whisper in their ears.

photo credit: John Christian Adams

Hands that used to grasp for self-purpose, ambitious dreams;

now are extended to steady first steps, calm fears,

wipe away the physical traces of sadness,

clap wildly with pride.

This heart of mine wasn't used as openly then.

I kept it apart from others, cautious of it becoming worn,

storing it away for when I was sure I needed it;

It bleeds and beats freely now, sometimes too quickly,

but has learned one will never run out

when you don't try to limit love.

I store this wisdom in my very bones

lessons housed beneath my very skin.

this, my mother body.

Thank you, buddy friend, for reminding me.

photo credit: John Christian Adams

(linking today with Soli Deo Gloria Sisterhood, living-well-wednesdays, Just write )

{all picture credits are for the fabulous John Christian Adams, please do not reproduce images without permission, instead, if interested, go check out all his great work, permalink on the right of my blog}

I chose this post, not because it's the best thing I've ever written...but because it speaks to where I am at this point in my life.  A place I'm grateful for. Happy blogoversary!!