credit: Kim Jones Photography
On Saturday, my almost-five-year-old tried to be quiet. And sneaky. And a secret keeper. He sat at the kitchen table, spooning up his honey-sweetened yogurt and cereal combo, and I could see his little wheels working. His thoughts are like carbonation; you can see them bubbling up as he wiggles and fidgets, and then he just lets them spill right out. He is just not a good container for all of that thinking to stay on the inside.
I was not very far away from him when I heard him “whisper” to my husband, “WHEN ARE WE GOING TO GO PICK UP MOM’S FLOWERS?” My husband looked at me with disbelief, which turned to an apologetic face, which finally resigned in a grin.
Sometimes, you just gotta go with it.
Rewind a day before to the “whispers” in a postpartum class that I am oh so honored to teach. Whispers-turned-sighs, slight smiles on the faces of new mommas who uttered soft phrases like, “Oh, I needed this,” and “This feels so good to my body.” Some of those whispers turned to tears. Little quiet tears that told stories of “I’m tired,” and “I’m so in love with this new person,” and “I’m really glad to be here.”
credit: Kim Jones Photography
Fast-forward to last night, deep in the middle of it, when I heard across the baby monitor little whimpers and lots of shifting around. There was a fever taking over the body of our 14-month-old. Those bottom molars are coming in and there were whispers of “something’s not quite right with me” and “please, please, wrap your arms around me and snuggle me away from this pain.”
Whispers are our way of releasing the deepest stuff. Stuff perhaps too fragile to weigh down with loud words. Stuff perhaps too precious to yell. Stuff, like tiny butterflies needing two hands to lift them up into the breeze and open their wings to the sun.
What would you whisper? Tell it to the wind…the grass…your best friend…your dog. Be brave and bold and really dig down deep into the stuff that is just trying to wrestle itself out of you. Ask the questions that need to be asked. Let out what needs to get out. And ever so importantly, beg to be held by those who are waiting to hold you.
Go on…
credit: Kim Jones Photography
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