Magic
I think I need to choose to believe in magic again. I feel like for the past two years or so I've convinced myself that, in life, shitty things happen and you deal with it and you move on; this has been beneficial in getting through the shitty parts...but with that mindset came the death of magic. The shitty stuff was less shitty because it was expected to be part of the cycle, but it's been harder to find the unexplainable joy in the simple things of every day life.
Lately I've been worrying myself over what it will be like to have our baby. I don't worry about things like handling the birth, breastfeeding, adjusting to a life without sleep, or all that other stuff--that stuff I know I can handle because there are reasonable, logical, and predictable ways of coping or adjusting to each of those; believing that I am a strong, logical, and capable person, I have faith that I can accomplish those things because I will be trying to. What I worry about is there not being enough love or attachment, given that that's what I feel I've been lacking (in part from internal and external factors) in the past two years (lacking, at least, in comparison to the levels prior to that). You can't create love out of logic or reason--that's what makes it magical...and because it's beyond my control, that's what makes it scary.
Last night I was reading a book about natural childbirth in a hospital setting (which I will be attempting), and in a section about writing your "birth plan" the author discussed bringing the memory of a ritual with you into your labor and delivery. By ritual she meant something as simple as what the family does for Thanksgiving or any other typical routine that would be traditional and enjoyed. I instantly thought of decorating a xmas tree, and how sacred that has always felt to me. There has always been something very special about my family going out together choosing (/arguing over) a tree which would somehow always be perfect; the tree would then acquire a perfectly symmetrical series of lights, and in the evening the lights in the house would be dimmed and boxes filled with trinkets and memories would have their contents displayed onto this perfect vessel. When it was done, we could sit back as a family, in a house dark except for the glow of the tree, and admire the transformation that had taken place. For me, this was always a moment when time stood still and everything was right.
Reflecting on these feelings last night made me conclude that I need to drop this "shit happens" attitude, because really it's magic that happens when you let it. Looking around me as I was thinking this, I realized that it's magical the way my dog has an unconditional love for me, and it's simply amazing that I am where I am in life right now. I thought back to other times that felt simply amazing beyond words, like being 16 and in love, going for walks at sunset in the summer, or the feeling that comes with each band camp, practice and performance of the UMass marching band. I think that the fact these feelings existed in the past should give me faith that they can happen again--that I can make them happen again--and this magic I want to take with me in April when the rest of my life changes forever.
Lately I've been worrying myself over what it will be like to have our baby. I don't worry about things like handling the birth, breastfeeding, adjusting to a life without sleep, or all that other stuff--that stuff I know I can handle because there are reasonable, logical, and predictable ways of coping or adjusting to each of those; believing that I am a strong, logical, and capable person, I have faith that I can accomplish those things because I will be trying to. What I worry about is there not being enough love or attachment, given that that's what I feel I've been lacking (in part from internal and external factors) in the past two years (lacking, at least, in comparison to the levels prior to that). You can't create love out of logic or reason--that's what makes it magical...and because it's beyond my control, that's what makes it scary.
Last night I was reading a book about natural childbirth in a hospital setting (which I will be attempting), and in a section about writing your "birth plan" the author discussed bringing the memory of a ritual with you into your labor and delivery. By ritual she meant something as simple as what the family does for Thanksgiving or any other typical routine that would be traditional and enjoyed. I instantly thought of decorating a xmas tree, and how sacred that has always felt to me. There has always been something very special about my family going out together choosing (/arguing over) a tree which would somehow always be perfect; the tree would then acquire a perfectly symmetrical series of lights, and in the evening the lights in the house would be dimmed and boxes filled with trinkets and memories would have their contents displayed onto this perfect vessel. When it was done, we could sit back as a family, in a house dark except for the glow of the tree, and admire the transformation that had taken place. For me, this was always a moment when time stood still and everything was right.
Reflecting on these feelings last night made me conclude that I need to drop this "shit happens" attitude, because really it's magic that happens when you let it. Looking around me as I was thinking this, I realized that it's magical the way my dog has an unconditional love for me, and it's simply amazing that I am where I am in life right now. I thought back to other times that felt simply amazing beyond words, like being 16 and in love, going for walks at sunset in the summer, or the feeling that comes with each band camp, practice and performance of the UMass marching band. I think that the fact these feelings existed in the past should give me faith that they can happen again--that I can make them happen again--and this magic I want to take with me in April when the rest of my life changes forever.