Just a Little Humanity

I’m going to be honest with you right now.

I just rocked my 8 year old to sleep.

And truthfully, that may be the last time I ever rock him again.

I probably haven’t rocked him in several years. But he was wide awake, struggling to sleep, whimpering because he has had insomnia for weeks. My heart said, rock him, so I asked and he crawled into my arms like he was two again.

My eyes welled with tears as we rocked, he relaxed into my arms like a baby, in the same chair we rocked in when he was a baby, with the same sweat, boogers and who knows what else from my two children on it’s tired upholstery. We’ll call it history.

This tender moment overwhelmed me. See I’ve seen a lot of sadness lately, a lot of undue misery brought upon some of the most beautiful people I know. It has broken my heart in a million pieces.

But it has also reminded my heart how crazy lucky I am to be absolutely surrounded by people that connect with my soul. Like those two little beings that touch my soul every single day. I realize how lucky I am that they picked me to be their mom.

I’ve been thinking a lot about connection lately. And the ways we are drawn to each other in our lives, and the ones we hold close, and the ones that we let go. But especially the ones we refuse to let go. We laugh together, we clink our glasses filled with wonderful (or horrible) wine, we listen to our favorite songs, we rock in a funky rocking chair under the full moon. But beneath all that we are connecting and truly, connecting is what it’s all about. Allowing yourself to be touched by another person, their unconditional love, perhaps admiration, or their sadness and doing the same for them.

I want to be truthful tonight, or whenever you’re reading this. I don’t want to sugarcoat my message. I think you can handle it. You see, I live in a quant town called Petaluma. Where people are willing to be a little vulnerable, even with a stranger to make a connection. In the checkout line at Trader Joe’s, or on a park bench, it happens all the time. We’re longing for it. We need it. And right now, we need it more than ever.

Right now I need it more than ever. The suffering has rocked me to the core, sometimes I feel like I can’t stand. But then my 5 year old daughter grabs my cheeks and kisses my forehead and says “I love you Mommy” and I know somehow, we’ll be okay.

There’s so much pain, it’s easy for an empathic soul to get swallowed up. But if there is one simple truth underneath all those layers of humanity, it’s that crazy magnetic force that draws me to you, that’s connected us in the strangest of ways, that’s calms our hearts and soothes our souls.