Good morning, World
It appears I have a lot to say this weekend. And for good reason! Tomorrow, Rain turns 4. He challenges me as much today as his first day on Earth β and that may not change, ever. And for this I love him most. Deep down, for making me confront the most stubborn aspects of my personality β to affirm love over and over and over again despite our little βreeveemβ (Χ¨ΧΧΧΧ) β little fights and crises over the small things. He is so much like me, itβs just a perfect teacher. And aside from that, he is magic β a little genius with language and logic and intuition, with 10x the heart. Everything he touches suits him. And he is beautiful β inside and outside beyond imagination. My dramatic, magnificent Leo. I am grateful for you β for us. For everything that we are, which feels ancient and deep across lifetimes.
This morning, I make pancakes. Rain chops the banana with his new cooking set. Liv quickly returns to sleep and I step outside, carrying inside me this spirit of France and Italy β that is, the way life is sweet and is here to nourish us, if we eat from it mindfully.
Each moment, a bite. Each breath, an assimilation β a joining of inner and outer life. I step outside and the sky is overcast, the desert is wet with summer monsoon rain from the night. The smell of the earth is intoxicating. The birds are busy. The bees are busy. I watch how everything has come to this world to create. To make make make. Nests, honey, hives, love β itβs all an act of passion, energy that emboldens us to move through the air or the water and make something out of nothing. If that is not an act of god in each one of us and everything β then I donβt know what is.
The desert is buzzing in work β natureβs work this morning. But it cultivates stillness at the same time. I look to the big saguaro β for the first time, I let it know me.
Maybe I mentioned this a million times before (surely I have journaled and journaled about it over the years), because it is something beautiful and curious in an ancient language.
In Hebrew, there are two verbs for βto knowβ and to know someone, in particular. One verb is used most frequently because it means βto recognizeβ and have met or become familiar with (ΧΧΧΧΧ¨). The other one, is (ΧΧΧ’Χͺ) and while itβs used for having knowledge of almost everything, it is used less frequently with knowing a person because in its biblical root it means to know someone intimately or sexually. Even today, it is a word reserved for sexual intimacy. But again, when it comes to being here + now and being intimate with life, this connotation is the only one that fits. Being known and known by life. Itβs in wonderful connection to the poem I referenced at the end of the writing yesterday.
And just like in love, and making love, there has to be a letting go. A letting down of guards, allowing yourself to be known physically, mentally, spiritually. Only then can we experience true intimacy and ecstasy. In French, that sexual ecstasy is called βla petite mortβ, which Iβm sure youβve heard literally translates to βa small deathβ β precisely because of that level of ecstasy that is only available in letting go. The sensation of losing your mind, showing up naked and without guard. A million times, just being your raw, pure self.
It may sound funny or bizarre but I dont see any other way to live, lest all this life be wasted. I want the moment to know me and I want to know the moment. Whatever and whomever is involved. What I mean is that I want my spirit to experience life. The raw grit of it. For that reason I think, I always chose to birth without the help of numbing. I want to know it - to know the pain that my body was born to know.
At the same time, I believe my mind was also born to know it - and just a side note, because I know birth method and choice gets controversial, we are all unique minds and bodies. Every birth is sacred because all of life is sacred. There are many roads to the same place and we each have to choose our own. And perhaps, on the way, we can also listen to othersβ roads chosen with open ears and the intention to hear the beauty. We can be curious about how all life is created and born and comes into beingβ¦whether it is a birth, a career, or how one potty trains. It simply applies to everything.
This esoteric voice comes out when I write in the journal, which this letter is. Thereβs something about the fingers hanging onto the pen for dear life, and the hand guiding ink across the page. Everything that comes out is dancing without the bounds of duality, and with creation, spirit, beauty. Time fizzles away.
In the thick of my ego discomforts β whether it is the fear of commitment I wrote about yesterday or whether it is head-to-head combat with the lion-dinosaur-dog that is my son β I want to yoke the life of me to a point where i can touch this place, this intimate letting go and allowing so that suddenly my spirit gets in the ring with my ego and my son and simply smiles at everything we are. At the core, light. To the point where you realize all darkness is an illusion, born in the mind. In the end, we let go of it. Why not get intimate with life now? Why not commit to this place, sweet mind?
My horoscope tells me that I am learning to understand myself and others as complex wholes. Itβs the honest truth.These writings over the past two days are evidence to my humanity and how much cognitive dissonance lays within us. Today, my spirit writes without fear of anything. Yesterday, there was more mind and fear and experiencing that for what it was and thatβs okay too. Itβs all a yoking towards approaching this life with our greater, fearless, heart. And it is inconsistent - it spirals up and down. Every day, is indeed, a full life. Happy birthday to my beautiful boy tomorrow. I am grateful every day that you made me your mother, and have granted me this opportunity. God knows it saved my life. Wishing the world a week full of grace, courage, and a whole lot of intimate spirit!
With great love, Paulina