It's almost April 15th, and I'm okay

It always snows near April 15th! This year, that was okay

April 15th. This day hangs over me most years. I watch the calendar get closer. Like somehow on April 15th the loss of my parents can be grieved in one day and then swept away as I always do, ignoring it until I'm forced to recognize it again. I watch for April 15th as a time to know "I'll have a bad day then".

This year is different. This year, as we sit in the quarantine, I see it snowing outside and I'm not angry. I don't feel trapped by circumstance. Or by what "should be". That it should be sunny in April. That we had enough snow all winter. That my parents should be alive. That I should be a better, calmer, more present parent. Should should should. I'm getting should all over myself. And I get stuck there. I'm aware that should isn't real. It's a judgement and it's in the future or the past, not the present moment. I know all these things, but I am often caught up in the should.

Dying Easter Eggs

Today, this week, this quarantine thus far I am not getting stuck in the should. I feel this growing sense of presence. Of acceptance. Being forced to recognize how little control I have -- anyone has -- over what will happen in a day. It has been a gift. I'm checking in with myself. Hearing a voice in my heart rather than my head. My heart is finding a little light in all of this. Telling me it's always been there, and that I've been so busy rushing around that I've ignored it. But it waits patiently. And it's a much calmer voice than I'm used to.

We got a keyboard for quarantine

This voice isn't telling me to be better. It's telling me that I'm human. That we'll have good moments and tough moments, beautiful moments and ugly moments. And that they're all okay. None of them can be changed or fixed but rather they can be acknowledged for the realization that we're human and all doing the best we can.

I watch Evie and Cora in the mess of this virus and I'm so grateful for the time I'm getting with them. I'm not the perfect parent right now, but I'm also not mad at myself for that.  If I make a mistake, I don't beat myself up about it. And I'm finding myself being more forgiving on the girls mistakes as well. The powerful recognition that we're all just doing our best, and that sometimes our best is enough and sometimes it falls woefully short, but it was still our best in that moment.

A new hike every weekend

I will take the time to check in with this voice in my heart, to nurture it, to let it grow stronger, and to begin to radiate outwards. As I practice with it, it won't be so quick to disappear in to the chaos. It will learn to stand tall and it will grow roots. I am grateful for these moments forcing me to slow down so I can hear it. This voice is mine. It's not coming from the outside. I'm not seeking and finding guidance elsewhere. It's within me and I will listen.