My aunt and I were picking wild fireweed on a hilltop in Alaska when she told me, in her beautiful British accent, some things happen in our life that we will never understand because they are meant for someone else. Our involvement is just a step in the climb, a notch in the belt, a petal on a flower. I have held on to this wisdom that was just a curiosity to me at the time.
These last 2 years, well this last decade really, has felt like I’ve been a circus performer trying to keep at least 10 -15 plates spinning on sticks. Four really precious ones anyway, and most days it felt like I was one stick short. It’s been exhausting. I just tried to pretend I was ok being in the circus. That I could be the best plate spinner that ever existed. That I was born for this craft. The crazy part is that everyone believed in me. They thought I was so good that I should be an Olympian. I know what you’re thinking, hey that’s not an Olympic sport. And you are right! But I trained like it was. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so I kept practicing and tried really hard to be a good circus performer.
The plates are beautiful, so colorful, especially as they spin. I could never drop one, I would never forgive myself. The plates are appreciative too. They love spinning and they have each other to spin with. The thing is, even though the plates looked beautiful and shiny, they’ve been empty. They’ve been spinning and just waiting to be dished some sweetness that was the nectar their hearts desired more than anything in the world. I’ve been the spinner of the plates, knowing that only one thing- their mama, could fill them up. So, if it feels like I am relentless in my hope for her recovery, it’s because I have so much love for her and for my grandchildren. I know how much they need her, more than anything else in this world. They need that heartstring to be strengthened by her beautiful, sober presence- and now that gift has arrived.
I’m not certain of too many things, but the mystery of why my daughter was born to me has become more clear. Likely for my plate spinning abilities and her need for a placeholder while she got chipped and a bit broken, while she found the glue, while she began to piece herself back together. I do know with certainty that she is a precious petal in my flower, and I in hers. As are all my children. They have peeled me back, petal by petal. They have stretched me in unimaginable ways. They continue to help me bloom into the fullness of my being. They have given me a lot of opportunity to evolve my soul in this lifetime-and I likely have given them the same. I am pretty sure they will need therapy for my parenting imperfections, and you know what? I’m ok with that. I hope they seek that out. Everyone needs few good healers in their life.
While they may have some chips, I never dropped one of them- and I will always be grateful whenever they are seated at my table, and all of our plates are full.
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