the fact that he exists in this world moves me the way the creation of oceans and land and wilderness must have forever changed the shaping of the whole of the earth. he moves with us and i move with him, and every day we carve out parts of ourselves to match each other's needs and desires. when he's tired, i rock him or grab his blanket and when i smile, his entire body reacts instantly, smiling back with his mouth, his eyes, his flapping, beautiful arms. if he cries out, i soothe him. there is no more only me, it is us, connected at the very slight of a pulse.
when we seek idleness and calm, we head outdoors, in whatever way we can. we sit together, under our trees or on the craggy rocks or near the rosemary, taking in all the little things that make life possible. i point out the different varieties of lavender and show him what chives look like with blooms or what happens when you snip the end of a rosebud.
i remember when i was a little girl, i'd spend all my time outdoors. in creeks. on bikes. in old, carved out trees and on side yards, back yards, front yards, parks, fields ~ all of it. in the summer, when the sun set high in the sky, i would run outdoors and be gone until the street lights came on, and even when the moon rose, i would be somewhere outside, sitting on our front porch, or laying on our grass eating dinner. i played with the earth, because that's what felt most natural.
i never knew that how i was unconsciously living as a little girl would be how i intentionally want to live as a mother to a son ~ i want to teach him to love this earth as much as i do. i want to teach him to find his answers outdoors, in bugs and driftwood and dirt. i want to teach him to look for answers with his hands and body and the soles of his bare feet pricked with thorns and played-in clothing. i want to teach him to build dreams with sticks and running water and piles of geodes, just like i did. i want him to go for walks not just for exercise but to collect his dreams. i want to teach him to use a compass by looking at the position of the sun, and look for patterns everywhere.
i know that he will make his own decisione because he is made from a love so eternal and great, even my guidance won't contain all he is made to be. but i hope i can teach him to gently tread this earth, discovering all the tiny miracles that fall at his feet every time he looks out.
when we seek idleness and calm, we head outdoors, in whatever way we can. we sit together, under our trees or on the craggy rocks or near the rosemary, taking in all the little things that make life possible. i point out the different varieties of lavender and show him what chives look like with blooms or what happens when you snip the end of a rosebud.
i remember when i was a little girl, i'd spend all my time outdoors. in creeks. on bikes. in old, carved out trees and on side yards, back yards, front yards, parks, fields ~ all of it. in the summer, when the sun set high in the sky, i would run outdoors and be gone until the street lights came on, and even when the moon rose, i would be somewhere outside, sitting on our front porch, or laying on our grass eating dinner. i played with the earth, because that's what felt most natural.
i never knew that how i was unconsciously living as a little girl would be how i intentionally want to live as a mother to a son ~ i want to teach him to love this earth as much as i do. i want to teach him to find his answers outdoors, in bugs and driftwood and dirt. i want to teach him to look for answers with his hands and body and the soles of his bare feet pricked with thorns and played-in clothing. i want to teach him to build dreams with sticks and running water and piles of geodes, just like i did. i want him to go for walks not just for exercise but to collect his dreams. i want to teach him to use a compass by looking at the position of the sun, and look for patterns everywhere.
i know that he will make his own decisione because he is made from a love so eternal and great, even my guidance won't contain all he is made to be. but i hope i can teach him to gently tread this earth, discovering all the tiny miracles that fall at his feet every time he looks out.
p.s: augustus is wearing a teething necklace from momma goose
You're speaking to my heart! I absolutely love this post. Everything and more that I want for my son too. I was the same as a little girl and strayed for a while. Now I am bringing all of it back into my life and its amazing how the earth heals me. Thank you for sharing.
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Deleteoops, sorry linds, replied on my husband's account ~ anyways, just wanted to say that i adore you and know exactly how you feel about this one. teaching our sweet boys to love the world around them will make them even more beautiful than they already can possibly be. xoxo
DeleteAhhhh, yes, nature and the outdoors is my religion, my church. I have always taught my boys that most of life's questions can be answered by Mother Nature. Just look to the trees I tell them!
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Deleteoops, sorry emily ~ replied on my husband's account! i just wanted to say thank you for your lovely comment and you are so right. "look to the trees" ~ oh i just love that! xoxox kerrie
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