It’s been a while, I know. I’m sorry. I was working on a blog post about something else, but life got in the way, and I’m bringing you this offering instead. 

When we grow up and have babies we have no idea the enormity of what we are taking on, in my opinion. Circumstances and emotions that, when we’re young, we can’t even imagine experiencing. And then we think when we get past the baby and toddler stages, when they’re going to school and bringing home adorable drawings, that maybe the hard part is over, and they can be anything and everything we hoped they would be. Maybe. 

It gets hard again, though. Parents with teenagers and adult kids know this. I’m learning this. It doesn’t get easier, it actually levels up, and suddenly all the problems you’re dealing with – relationships, substances, grief, pain, mental illness, trauma, becoming parents – they’re dealing with those same problems, and those tears are so much harder to wipe away.  That hurts. 

Last week, I went out of my comfort zone. I was so heartbroken and angry over the killings in Buffalo that I spoke from my broken heart on social media. I know, that’s pretty lame in the grand scheme of things, but for me it was a big step. In the past I would have chickened out and taken my post down an hour later, afraid to ruffle feathers, afraid of what people would think. But maybe it’s because I’m finally turning 40 this year (a long cherished childhood dream), or maybe it’s because my own heart has been so pulverized by motherhood over the past two months, but I didn’t flinch this time. I left it up. It resonated with people, it was shared and commented on and supported. My broken heart helped others tune in to their pain and outrage. 

So why am I sharing this? Why should you care?

Because our kids, and the kids of our communities, need us. They need our hearts. Our broken, squishy, oozing, pierced, tattered hearts that we can be so afraid to lay bare because they are so vulnerable. But those are the hearts with power. Those are the hearts that give us courage, and our communities need us to be courageous. They need us to love. 

How do we do that amidst all of the chaos? For me, what I’ve learned as a healing-centered coach is that first –  you pause. Lately, I’ve been pausing by forcing myself to do yoga in the morning. I know that if I don’t, my body will fall apart, as it is wont to do, and I will be miserable all day. I drink water. I take breaths when I get mad. Why do these all sound like clichés? Because they are true! They are time tested, but somehow it takes us a lot of work to learn those lessons and practice them consistently. Well, it has taken me nearly forty years!

I hope you will bring your broken heart my way so that we can explore its enormous power together.  

Go ahead and laugh, even if it hurts, go ahead and pull the pin. What if we could risk everything we have and just let our walls cave in.

Atlas: Heart by Sleeping at Last