Monday at the Turtle Tipi means a new school week begins. I love our school days, I love teaching, but I love watching my precious one just fly right through her work soaking it all up like the sponge she is. And we have so much fun doing it too.
She is so intelligent, it just blows my mind. When her work was finished for the day and I was writing up my notes, I just became overwhelmed with pride. On so many levels. Her life is so different than mine was. Her normal is soo beautiful and sacred and blessed and fairy tale-ish. And it’s because I did that, ME. If I step back and look at the BIG picture, that is a HUGE feat. Most children with soul wounds grow up and impose soul wounds on their children. I refused. I knew my baby was sacred, unscarred, whole, and was coming to earth to start her own journey. Her At’e and I were simply here to hand out hugs, love and guidance. I knew I couldn’t let my stuff get in her way. And as I look at her, outside of our home, as I see her interact with others in the community, she’s so solid. She’s so there. Everyone sees her light and loves her dearly. I’m so proud of her for who she is, but I’m proud of myself for succeeding as a parent,(thus far). Someone asked me how I did that, and my answer was I just loved her. I just let her know from the moment we knew she was there, that she was Sacred, she mattered and that she was loved. And I haven’t stopped letting her know.
This song I have included on here is called “Power Animals” by David and Steve Gordon. It’s a song that I played when I got back to South Dakota so many years ago, on that pioneering journey I took to come HOME. It’s a reminder of how far I’ve come. Of how much I’ve accomplished, of WHAT I’ve accomplished. As I sit here at the close of another day and say thanks to Tunkasila for my blessed life, and for the precious turtle in the other room, it allows me to look back and see just how far the road goes. And that while there have been a few pot holes here and there, it has been amazing and rewarding. I’m on the right path.
These last two years have been HELL, for various reasons, and I had lost my way. Or, at least, I felt I’d lost my way. I wasn’t sure that what I was doing mattered anymore, that I was even on the right path. Then, a rape survivor came to me for support so I supported her. And it all came back to me, as if the fog I felt I had been in had lifted. Being on the other side of supporting that woman, I can see the blessings and lessons in my “down” time of the last year. I had previously been beating myself up over it, but now see the immense worth.
I’m writing again. I’m talking again. And I starting to understand again. That makes it all worth it.
More later…for now,
Peace and Turtles,