Treasures in My Pocket

This morning I noticed that the pockets in my favorite fleece jacket starting to jingle. When I looked inside, it made me pause. Most everything was a “gift” from my youngest, my five year old daughter.

Most of the time, I accept her offerings with a smile and a thank you, stuff them in my pockets, and keep going with my grown-up tasks. But today as I took inventory, I felt the almost unbearable sweetness of these interactions --

• A handful of pennies she brought me to “buy” something from her, and the change she gave me in return
• A tiny picture of a white cat, which she gave me because she knew I had a white cat that I loved when I was little
• A gorgeous petite stripey snail shell, from a huge bottle of which she fell in love with at Goodwill one day, and have since decorated random places all over the house

There are more, of course, more mundane -- the abandoned barrettes in my purse, the crayons that couldn’t be parted with at the restaurant, a sparkly rock from a parking lot.

For whatever reason, today I could feel the deeper feeling behind these interactions. The strong desire to learn how to navigate this realm, with all its quirks and complications. A gesture to acknowledge my own loves and losses. The trust that I can take care of something precious to her. The intense childhood wonder at the beauty all around us.

I feel in awe of the profound trust we have in each other, as souls, when we undertake this mother-child bond. That despite the undeniable rough spots, the moments of doubt and frustration, there is something truly beautiful there -- a belief that we can help each other to grow, to be taken care of, to learn to love.

I think I’ll keep a few of these treasures in my pockets, to remind me.

Embracing the Messiness of Life

A warm hello to all, and a brief introduction of myself to those of you who don’t know me. I’m Sarah Nuxoll, mother of two young children in Portland, Oregon. I enjoy musing and pondering till some of those reflections are just bursting forth and then I enjoy writing them down.

It was inevitable, I think, that I would start my own blog one of these days. I’ve had the idea for a some time now, but have repeatedly shelved it for several reasons – fear of putting myself out there (what if someone thinks I’m crazy?), paralysis due to the stumbling block of my perfectionism (hmm, that sounds okay, but I bet I could come up with something better if I think about it a while longer), but most of all, waiting for uninterrupted time to sit down and actually follow through with my plan.

Which brings me neatly to the subject of the title of my blog: Embracing Messiness. As a mother, I so rarely have uninterrupted time to myself. My life is a jumbled conglomeration of half-made plans, abrupt about-faces in what is needed in the moment, seemingly urgent requests from my children. I’ll admit I am still in the infancy of realizing that parenting isn’t about self-sacrifice, that not just my mental health but the overall good of my family depend on my setting firm boundaries with my kids and taking time for what I need, too. (I expect you’ll hear more about that in future entries.)

But the deeper truth I’m coming to terms with, is that life is just plain messy. We want so desperately to think we’re in control, but the truth is, in many ways, life just happens to us. We have kids and are shocked to learn what parenting really entails, we develop health conditions, we move cross country, we lose someone from our lives – it is messy. And there’s no controlling it. It is so easy to sleepwalk through our lives waiting for that fictitious moment when things will slow down, or get easier, and cling to the belief that then we can do what we really enjoy with our lives.

But what I most want to share in this blog, is that the more we can embrace these interruptions and about-faces and unexpected challenges – the more we can bring our true, authentic selves into each of these moments – that’s when we can begin to let go of vague sense of waiting for the right moment and just allow ourselves to really be here. To wake up from the sleepwalking, and consciously relate to what is right in front of us. To actively participate in our lives.

And to that end, I am excited to share with you some of my process, my trials and errors, my humble revelations, in hopes I might help ignite your own yearning to be fully here. I’m glad for your companionship along the way.