Relying on my intuition has been one of the greatest gifts that I have received over the last 100 days.
I have listened closely. As I listened to the my “soul-voice,” I discovered that my children were watching me. They have seen and have heard me depend on my intuition as a guide.
As I showed up page after page, they would ask how I knew what to draw and how to draw it, and I would say, “I just knew.” Towards the end, I would have a strong feeling whether I should start it at the beginning of the day or the end of the day.
When I had my eldest, it took every last strength of my will to follow my intuition and to discard what everyone else was telling me. But there have been times when I have not trusted my mother’s intuition. Each and every time I listened to the external world, I lost touch with my innate mothering skills.
I worried that they did not have enough opportunities to do certain activities or learn skills. I worried if they would grow to be kind and generous. I worried that we were not doing enough for them. I worried that we were not giving them enough. I worried that we were ill-equipped to teach them lessons that would help them to survive in the world. I worried, even feared it deep down, that they wouldn’t achieve standard milestones set by mainstream society. I worried that we were not spending enough time with our children.
But over the past few years, I worried less about those things. I learned first and foremost to trust myself as a mother and to trust what I know for sure, what I had felt in my gut 18 years ago, pregnant with my first daughter.
Now that I see her ready to claim her own voice in this world, I can see the beautiful effects of the most important thing I have given her and that I still do every single day.
Through this 100 day process, I have discovered how powerful our love can be for ourselves and for our children. When I love myself completely, where I am right now as I look in the mirror, I give permission for them to love themselves. When I love the world completely, I give them permission to love the world. When I love their father and their siblings, I give them permission to love others. When I show them, and not just tell them, that love means faith, hope, peace, compassion, understanding, forgiveness to ALL, I give them all the tools they need to go out into the world. There is nothing else to teach. There is nothing else to learn.
When we are faced with difficult situations or too many alternatives to choose from, it becomes simple and easy if they can sense which choice is the loving one. They have heard me ask them and myself, “How does this choice make you feel?” “If money wasn’t an issue, how would this experience make you feel?” “Would you rather feel peaceful or angry? Can you let it go in order to return to the love in your heart?”
We can try to implement habits and exercises to teach our kids how to be loving human beings. But at the end of the day, it is only through what we ourselves believe and how we choose to see the world and ourselves that teaches them. I can say this now because I spent a long time figuring out what is best for my children. I have spent a lot of time going in circles trying to figure out how to handle their different personalities and to meet their individual needs. Only when I listen to my heart am I always returning to these two words for guidance:
I finally trust that this is enough as I see my older daughter extend her love out into the world, listening with love and choosing love. There are things that I have done and things I didn’t do with my children that I have beaten myself up for over and over again. After forgiving myself and making the commitment to just loving them every single day for who they are right now, our home is a place of joy. As we enter our first day of school tomorrow, I plan to begin by telling them how much I love them and paint this beautiful portrait of who they are as they look in the mirror. I want them to see themselves as I see them, as God sees them – perfectly whole and born to love.
100 scribbles…hurriedly writing the here and now.