“The Wide Sea” By Birds of Chicago

My life is the eye of the hurricane –
an island of calm in a sea of uncertainty.
– Jonathan Lockwood Huie

I’ve been quiet for a while.

To be fair, it’s the holidays officially now, so things are starting to pick up. Busy. Bustling.

If I thought I didn’t have time to “figure it out” before, I really don’t have it now.

One activity drags you into the next into the next, here, there, a student, a teacher, a parent, a friend, a baby, and on and on and on, lapping me up and backwards and upside down, lungs filling with watery waves of activity, and I’m drowning. I barely have the wherewithal to come up for air and admit (yet again) that I want to breathe. I need to breathe. It is a seemingly never-ending cycle which never ends SO FAST.

And I’m so ready to sl-o-o-o-o-o-w d-o-o-o-o-o-wn. Aren’t you?

Don’t we all have the choice to exit the tidal pool of “must have it all on my terms?”

I’d like to wade around in “love to” for a while instead of “have to.”

I love to write. I love to sing. I love to be his mama. I love to breathe deeply and observe and connect.

I do not love to be out of the house away from him full time.

My baby boy is 5 months. Almost 5 and half months, actually. How did that happen so fast?

I’m still no closer to any of my other dreams, but I’m so enjoying this one.

I’m his mama. THAT dream. I want to swim around in THAT dreamy sea for a long while, and show my boy how to float on the salty waves. You don’t even have to move, except to breathe in and out and face the sun, to let go and trust. You won’t drown this way.

And let’s not forget the dream that is my marriage. Even on our worst days, it’s JOY being his wife and being protected by him. All the parts of life that do feel right these days (amongst and despite the many that do not), involve my husband, who is kind and thoughtful and so very hard on himself. It’s true that we are our own worst critics; my husband may be the poster child for this adage. We currently tread the same relentless waves; our arms are weak from the movement, and our souls are weak from the fear.

When will we just BREATHE?

And even though teaching seems to love me (and it does, and I’m grateful to be loved by anything at all, and especially, anyone I work with), somehow still my heart cannot get on board this crazy train that is my teaching schedule (which careens full speed into my poor mind, smashing it to smithereens most days.)

But at home, I’m HOME. With my boys, in our house, laughing and singing all the time, all music, all love.

Even on our worst days, my family is my JOY.

And that was the biggest dream I dreamed. And it’s here. I’m floating along beside my two boys, and life has never been sweeter.

Praise God for He is GOOD. So, so good.

And maybe, like Aaron and Hur holding up Moses’ arms to pray, God will steady mine to simply stay afloat. Oh Lord, won’t you please steady my arms and steady my heart?


We watched the sun finally dip like a gum drop in a tar pit down in the sea.

Why did we come here? Why did we do this? What the hell were we thinking?

But I know you. I am for you. You are not for me. You never knew me.

My soul is a witness to your soul in its flight, away from the laughter, away from the light.

I have a vision of how it will be all the way at edge of the wide sea.

But I know you. I am for you. How would I know you? Oh, are you for me?

My words they don’t reach through the storm that you slept through,

Rat, tat, tat, tat on your window, please come back, please come back to yourself,
And come back to me.


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