Finding Answers

"Time is slipping away.  

And as the chaos fades into something more like fullness, I am seeing how damned sacred it all is.

To watch someone come into the world, to know them before you even know their name.  
To attend to their cries, their hunger, their fear.  
To feed them.  
To bathe and change them, to witness them in all their vulnerability, all their naked humanity.  
To accept them as you've probably never accepted anyone before.
To watch your own brain rewire, connecting you to a chain of parents throughout time,
turning you both stronger and more vulnerable at the same time...

Parenting is to know all the previous versions of someone, 
to hold them inside your mind as they grow,as they unfold.
It's slowly learning to let go on the outside as their lives begin to take shape, separate from your own, 
while on the inside, in your strong, tender parent-heart, you never let go at all."

- Lynn Shattuck, Elephant Journal (http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/01/this-is-parenting/)

As a remote-parent for the most part than not, that bit about time fading so fast as the children transforms from being a baby into little persons, got to me.  

I was just reading awhile back a blog entry I had when Rod was just three years old and how amazed I was at how articulate he was becoming and yet maintaining that sweet little voice of his. I was remembering in my mind Rod's face, little hands and little feet and the kind of assured confidence he had when he speaks whatever was on his mind. Yes, even at three years old. It was a delight seeing him unfold.  

I went to the field for the first time this year. Coming back to the office I was thinking how enriching it was to hear about the women's stories and how we are making a difference, somewhat. I thought that was the highlight of my day.

It wasn't. It was Rod, standing up suddenly to re-position the laptop we have at home. He arranged it so it was directly facing the foot of the bed. My perplexity soon got answered as I saw him gather his pillow and blanket, put it near the foot of the bed and settled down to sleep. I saw him peer at me, checking if I was still looking as I promised and then settled down to sleep.  

It was Forest, making the request in her cute, sleepy voice, "Tingnan mo kami habang natutulog, Nay ha?" (Watch over us while we sleep, Nanay, okay?) 

It was knowing that while it is difficult, we're all one in making it work -- defying the distance and coming up with creative ways to stay connected. i sat there, knowing in all certainty that at this stage in my life, I am a mother first and foremost.  

I am and will always be grateful for my job and the opportunity to pursue my passion, to carve a space for myself and my own becoming. I am grateful that in the process, it is also affording me the opportunity to save up for my children's future. And yet, At the same time, I knew that for that, I am also foregoing being part of my children's "today." I know that in the process, I am not able to witness much of their own unfolding. And I am awake enough to know even when Rod was just in my womb that, that is the most important part of my becoming a mother.  For the past few weeks, I've been pulled from these two opposite directions. I've been grappling with the indecision of whether I hold on for a few months or just throw caution to the wind and just be where I want to be.  

I remember being grateful for this morning's experience. I remember looking out at the field as we're driving towards the office and thinking, I am learning and growing so much as a person in the past months that I have been here. At the same time, I am afforded with the opportunity to somehow make a difference and to contribute in my own little way. I remember thinking, I could probably give it a few more months. It would mean, a few more months of not worrying so much that bills are paid and that we're able to set a side a few more for the children's college fund. And yet, the thought that I'm missing so much of my children's growing up is tearing me up to pieces... 

Deep down I know what I needed to do. Yet the human in me is wallowing in the uncertainty and fear. At the same time, I am giddy at the thought of how amazing the universe is at throwing in my path answers to my questions. It's exhilarating, finding myself in the middle of having different alternatives (in the form of readings, encounters, stories) being laid down on my path for me to reflect upon and affirm what my heart already knows. Here's praying for those moments of fear and uncertainty to just fade away and to simply remain basking in the joy that being certain of the truth brings.