Flying Around the World For Love

I am sitting in a plane flying across the globe to be with Tobias in the hospital. The light is purple outside and the setting sun paints the wings a glowing peach. 

It is so beautiful I can hardly tell if my heart is beating in wonder or at what I am flying into when I land in Denmark. 

My intuition tells me it is both. 

In the last 72 hours Tobias has had a seizure that left him unconscious and without a front tooth after hitting his head and face in the fall. 

Scans have revealed something that is as yet, undiagnosed.

In the last 9 hours I have packed myself, gotten Espen situated with my wonderful sister Jackie and her family and boarded a plane.

In the midst of this flurry of action and rapid choice making, feelings flow like melting glaciers. There are questions—What do I say to Espen so he knows I need to go the Denmark and that he is safe? How do I step into this unknown and keep my heart open, my mind clear and my body healthy? What does it mean to be present and strong when tears are a new commonality? 

It seems oddly apropos that I have spent the preceding week telling Espen stories about how change can lead to many wonderful things. Of advising my relatives on how to maintain their joy in the midst of upheaval and negativity.

And now having the opportunity to take my own words to heart as Tobias and Espen and I step into a big unknown.

A friend once told me that thoughts become things so choose the good ones. I have spent many years considering this and the last 9 months Retraining my Brain to default to a positive outlook. 

I spent the 9 months before Espen was born creating a story, language, and an environment of peace and empowerment that contradicts traditional views on birth. His birth was amazing.

In the middle of all this uncertainty, one thing comes back to me that I learned during a 10 day silence meditation retreat just before I met Tobias. 

Life rises and falls. Big waves or small ones, the nature of life is change. What we get to choose is where we put our attention. 

Where do I want to put my attention now? I could opt for a Pollyanna perspective and paint this as a wonderful opportunity for growth and healing. I could go dark and dive into my worst case scenario. I could numb out and shut down emotionally, going into a PTSD like state.

As I sit here writing this, a baby cries in front of me and I crack a smile remembering Espen’s first trip like this at 15 months. 

My chest feels full to bursting with all the emotions flowing simultaneously. Laugh? Cry? Moan? Bliss out?

Yes. To all.

When I gave birth to Espen I felt my heart crack open to make room for him. I can feel it sprouting again, pushing its beautiful capacity to love what IS through the cracks caused by this surprise. 

Sometimes what we think is breaking is really bending to make more space for love.

I did not know when I watched This Is Us last night that I would be waking up to my own tornado hours later, but my deeper wisdom knew.

How can life be so intensely painful and glorious simultaneously? It defies explaination and demands a response.

This is what I have been practicing for in meditation, in yoga, in my own curious soul this entire lifetime.

There are many things I do not know the outcome to and many things that I cannot control. 

And yet, there is always a choice.

So for this moment, I chose to watch and experience my life and its risings and fallings. I choose to acknowledge what I feel and love it with my bigger heart. I choose to look for the opportunity and be curious. And I chose to let myself laugh and weep and explore and revel in the mystery of life.

I am strong—I can feel it in my bones and these tears and this adventure. I can and will bend and shift and allow my body and brain to balance because they know how when I let go of what I think SHOULD be.

Whatever that looks like, wherever it leads, I proclaim that we are coming through this lighter and more loving than when we began.

So send your your love, send your hopes and dreams and I will hold you even as you hold us as we grow.