Two nights ago I became frustrated with myself. Why am I tied to my kid as she falls asleep? Am I the only Mom in America who can't just put her two year old to bed and leave the room to get on with the evening? What an injustice I have created for myself!
Today I have gotten over that screed. I somehow reconnected to myself and the innate knowingness of motherhood. It's like a stream of truth that flows from somewhere unknown. It just showed up, peaceful and patient at the same time my daughter's weight was finally rested into my arms.
The stream will never lead me astray. If I stay near it, it will nourish me and therefore my daughter. It leads me into simple and loving parenting choices. Choices that are grounded.
Moving away from it gets tricky. The forest around it is dense with everyone else's opinions and judgments. Delving deeper into society's labels and pre-determined format for child rearing only makes me anxious. I question myself and fret. I feel lost and as if I actually need more input from the outside.
Best to stay near the stream. It exists by virtue of being a mother. It doesn't actually matter if my kid can't fall asleep on her own right now. Looking outward I could get the message that I have somehow messed up. I t think I'll stop looking outward for such answers.
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