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My first born child will graduate from high school tomorrow. It’s been a week of sometimes dizzying emotions. Long to-do lists, party preparations, the rapid firing of a dozen school year's worth of memories, out-of-town guests and the knowledge that our family is about to experience a wonderful (but profound) occasion. One that ultimately sets in motion a slew of enormous changes.
A few months ago, I vowed to do everything in my power to stay as present as possible during the weeks and days leading up to this grand occasion. I decided that I was going to soak it all in.
Well, I’m here.
It’s the eleventh hour.
T minus one sleep and it’s time for her to walk. Milestones can be tricky. Milestones that involve our kids, often take our breath away.
The past has a way of sharpening the edges. Making things that much more acute. Flooded with mental images of our ‘little kids', we often feel paralyzed. Trapped in our thoughts. Unable to move forward because the future seems scary...or completely inconceivable because she was just heading to Kindergarten five minutes ago!
Something happened to me earlier this week.
I felt a shift.
Without any decision or forethought, I felt myself surrender.
verb. abandon oneself entirely to (a powerful emotion or influence); give in to.
I rarely use the word surrender. The last time I recall even considering the word ‘surrender’ was when my three children were small. I was smack in the middle of the full-on mothering years. Monotony was the norm. Repetitive tasks filled my days. I felt a bit resentful and overwhelmed.
I stumbled upon (or the Universe directed me to:-) a book titled Surrendering to Motherhood- Losing Your Mind, Finding Your Soul by Lois Krasnow.
This honest, 200 page read opened my eyes to the art of surrendering. Ms. Krasnow’s words hit home. I needed her message. It helped me yield to the demands of my busy life mothering three toddlers. In yielding, I discovered some contentment.
The act of surrendering is powerful. The relief that follows the ‘letting go’ is profound.
I’ve been overcome by an unexpected wave of peace this week. My heart and soul have decided to simply ride it out.
All the way.
Right through the heartstring-tugging sounds of Pomp and Circumstance, past the celebration of Greta’s exceptional K-12 career. . .and clear into next week when I’ll be that mom who can say, “My daughter just graduated from high school”.
The tsunami of emotions? I’m riding that out, too. Feeling all the feels.
In the past few days...I’ve quietly fallen apart talking with favorite Anthropologie clients and old neighbors. I’m sure if the deli counter guy asks ‘How’s it going this week?’, I’ll become a puddle. I'm very thankful for waterproof mascara.
But...and this surprises me a bit...it feels okay (even good) to feel it all.
I guess I always thought of surrender as a sign of weakness. I usually opt to dig in my heels and fight. Often I'm merely fighting myself by resisting what is. Holding on too long to an idea or a thought or a way of being.
I’m beginning to think that all the work I’ve done to be more present is actually paying off. I truly believe that this week’s unconscious surrendering is a beautiful byproduct of living more fully in the Now.
I didn’t choose to surrender, it just happened.
By yielding to all of the feelings, emotions and memories that accompany this big life event, I’m finding real joy.
I am incredibly proud of Greta.
I’m excited for the Now when her name is called and she walks to receive her high school diploma.
I will be 100% present.
Surrendered fully to the moment and the milestone.
Happy Weekend, folks. If you see a woman in the grocery store today who looks like she’s been testing her waterproof mascara, whisper a wish of surrender...she might be needing it.
Weekly Updates right here.
Thank you for following along.
P.S. I’ve been randomly listening to Pomp and Circumstance on my phone since before Greta’s sixth grade graduation. My hopes? That by the time she graduated from high school, I’d be immune to its triumphant sound and not fall apart during the first few measures. No such luck. It’s playing in my office as I type these words. Blubbering mess:-)