Here's how it started: postpartum anxiety, exhaustion, big changes beyond the baby. Feeling overwhelmed, I was told to take pills & medicate it away. Not good enough for me in more ways than one. So, I dug deep into God, meditation, joy, restorative practices, spirituality, yoga, The Beatles. I struck up mystical conversations with magical friends. I saw Shakespeare live and let the rhythm of his language flow over me like a rushing river. I re-prioritized my concerns and surrounded myself with positive minds.
In the midst of all this I retraced my steps. From The Beatles, a source of pure joy, the obsession of my youth. To The Fest, a gearfab gathering of the Beatles fan family, to Michelle Joni, daughter of The Fest, to DJ Tasha Blank who inspired me with #wecametodance.
My son, my amazingly energetic son jumps like a madman and sways to and fro. Here I was trying to relax with my yoga when all the time he was telling me to ramp up, get excited, we love each other, life is perfect, let's dance! so this morning we did. He in his jumper, me on my mat, we danced to the rhythm of the drums. We shook off negativity, released our fears, thrived in loving vibes.
I may not be the mom with all the answers. I may not be the mom who cleans the house every day. But I am the mom who dances. And that is who he needs. Because he came to dance.