unconditional love | ravenwolfsong

It’s early morning, my dog is snoring, it’s my daughter’s 20th birthday, all my kids are home, we are safe, we are loved, we are blessed with warmth (it’s 26 degrees outside), we have abundant good food, we have each other, we have this beautiful day to celebrate, and my dog has fleas.

I woke up too early today, and before I could retreat back into a peaceful slumber, my mind quickly filled with all of the above facts, along with a myriad of to-do lists, worries, possibilities, expectations, gratitude, and overwhelming emotions. It’s been eons since I wrote out-loud; I write in my head all the time, but I suddenly felt inspired to share, and so here I am.

Once long ago, I was a happily married stay-at-home mom. Every day I felt safe and secure. We were a home-schooling family, which meant for us that we followed our hearts and lived a fulfilling life of adventure, love, and joy. Years later, the reality of our story has turned out to be even more wonderful than I ever imagined.

Somewhere in the middle, my marriage fell apart, and so did any feelings of safety and security. Since then it has been a major struggle to arrive where I am today, but somehow, in part thanks to the generosity of people who love us, and my creative determination to walk my own path, we have thrived.

Through it all, my children have been my source of strength, my focus, and the reason I have been able to move forward. Our relationships with each other have grown beyond family ties and are based on mutual respect, devotion, companionship, and unconditional love. We are each other’s best friends forever.

We took these sweet photos last year on Tiana’s birthday

Now they are grown and each moving in different directions. I find myself at a lost for how my life will unfold. My son Deven reassures me that our lives are expanding rather than contracting, and as they move onward, it can only open us up to new relationships and new adventures. Already it has begun, and I do see the beauty of change, but still my heart quietly mourns for what will no longer be.

Determined to live in the moment, today we are all home, together in our little house by the lake, and I am grateful beyond measure.

Soon a fire will be made, the tea kettle whistling, and the house will be filled with the sounds of my children’s voices and the constant rumbling of the washer and dryer as I work to wash every pillow, blanket, curtain, and piece of clothing that may-or-may-not be hiding any fleas or their future off-spring. After a lovely breakfast, I will break out my new high-powered vacuum cleaner I bought to remove the scourge that has entered my home and clean every inch of our dwelling. I have had dogs ever since I moved here to New England 30 years ago, and we have never had fleas. None of us are happy about this, especially Skadi.

Poor pup doesn’t understand why she no longer has the run of the house

Hopefully I can also find the time to make pumpkin muffins with chocolate chips, take my 3 mile walk, and maybe read a few chapters of my book.

Most importantly, I will remain present, express myself in a loving way, and be grateful for every moment that we can be together. Even if my dog is scratching next to me……

UPDATE: I actually wrote this blog yesterday morning on my daughter’s birthday before everyone got up, but just as I finished, she came into my room crying that she didn’t feel good. We ended up at the emergency hospital for most of the day while they tested her. Thankfully we were able to go home and she is currently on the mend. My poor sweetie, what a way to celebrate her special day. We managed to have a peaceful evening, and the only thing I was able to accomplish on my great to-do list was to take my much-needed walk around the lake. This all goes to show how quickly life can change, and how very precious each and every moment of time is that we share with our loved ones.

In Itchy, but Grateful Peace, Raven

Sometimes life is understood only in the being, that sacred threshold of space that lies gently between our past and future worlds. Born from the beauty of the unknown, we are all performers in an elaborate dance of mystery, our steps made intricate by the power of our choices. Unconsciously we move to the rhythm of a destiny that is uniquely ours to hear.

The fullness of our being resides in the present. To remain in the center watching, without thought, is to be the calm within the storm. Only by surrendering, to look neither left nor right, can we understand the grace of this divine connection. To worry over an unseen future, or to search the past for reasons why, is futile. In its complexity, there are no perfect answers, and ultimately these questions distract us from the moment that is before us now.

Here in the center we are complete, nothing is missing, and everything is clear. Here we can access unconditional love, and breathe in the essence of the universe that lives within our very molecules. Here in this moment we have available to us an infinity of possibilities, limited solely by the expanse of our faith. Here in the center, we are free to face both the light and the dark, knowing we are safe.

I am asking you to see beyond your current reality. In the center is the place where holiness lives. The space inside you that lights up when you catch a glimpse of something greater than your mortal understanding. It is our sanctuary of prayer and refuge, the part of ourselves that is eternal, unswayed by the surface of happenstance.

Sitting up on my ledge, high enough to touch the stars, I relax trusting I am blessed. Life is a dance and I am willing to bend and flow in the perfection of its beauty. I gaze upon an endless universe of wonder and dream myself into the next moment. Breathing in serenity, here in the center I dwell, one dance step at a time.

In Peace,

Raven

“Just remain in the center watching and then forget that you are there.” Lao Tzu

“I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round. I really love to watch them roll. No longer riding on the merry-go-round. I just had to let it go.” John Lennon