Motherhood has called upon me to fulfill my greatest purpose in life and has asked of me to rise to face no greater responsibility. During this time of the global Covid crisis, I have felt a tremendous weight to shelter my daughter from the storm. Her emotional well being at the forefront spanning the weeks and months of social distancing. Having an innate knowing that as she grows older her feelings from these times will leave impressions and become etched into memories. As a Mother, my role has been intuitive, to hold her closely and shield her from the uncertainty of these unprecedented times. In the rare moments where I can find a quiet pause, usually in the early mornings, I sit with my own reflections where naturally worries step forth.  As an adult I struggle with making sense of how to navigate the world in these times -- masks, gloves, hand sanitizer, two metres apart, wary of every other human posing a potential health risk. Yellow caution tape across playgrounds, plexiglass walls, empty streets that once were filled with life. I can only wonder how a young child could possibly be processing all of this disconnection. It too seems a tremendous weight for our children to bear. 

 

What is at the heart of our home, at the centre of all things is our resting place. We all lean into this place (even our feline). Home, our small place in the world to seek refuge -- our container to provide emotional relief, safety, security,  and a sense of peace. We have made rainbow art for our windows offering messages of hope, and drawn chalk art on the sidewalks to reach our community. We have made music each evening at 7pm, rattling tambourines and shaking rainmakers to honor the frontline heroses. Touched by a feeling of being at one with our neighbours, our humanity in these moments.  We have filled vases with spring buds to show the promise of spring, built forts to create lands far, far, away and have gotten lost in the world of dragons and mythical stories. The forced pause from our overly busy lives has become a welcome relief, a beautiful homecoming of sorts to each other. This is where we can notice the lightness, and feel the hope, and push aside the bigger picture of the long and winding road of the new normal, and find the olive branch in the form of a respite. 

 

We have rekindled simple daily rhythms that had been forgotten. Daily rituals have walked us through the days, the weeks, and now the seasons.  Winter led to spring, which has led to summer. Home learning has been a way of living for our family for many years, an anchor we gratefully already had in place. Holding onto our child at home made these unnatural times more natural as she has focused on her attachments to us as her parents. We act as a compass, holding a steady course (or at least we know we must convey this conviction), and point her to her true North. Without the external focus of moving through the world, while being asked to stay home, we have been teaching her a way of looking within, not from outside of herself. In my efforts to guide her towards a calm and grounded sense of self, hoping this will lead her to finding her sense of place in the world over time. Maybe this longing is too of my own, and has added to the depth of responsibility I feel to help guide her in this way. 

 

We also  find our rhythms of time in nature together. There has been beauty all around us, while witnessing the sweet revealing of spring. Feeling blessed by Mother Earth, which has offered a metaphor that life goes on. There is great healing in her rest.  The magnolia and cherry blossoms bloomed and their temporal beauty faded in April,  the sweet scent of lilac bushes filled the May air. Births of ducklings and goslings made visible the tiny miracles of nature's life cycle coming full circle once again. We found space to allow for a quiet surrendering to a gentler way of being, by noticing the little things, the ordinary moments, and attuning to the cyclical moments. Making room for a softening in our spirits and in our bodies by surrendering to a slowing down and a quieting of our minds. Nature, like our home, has held us gently.

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In many ways we have found solace, peace, beauty, but not without the juxtaposition of sadness and disappointment. There has been loss in the world of a great magnitude. This has been felt globally. There has been a dismantling of other rhythms and rituals that mark our human existence, that give meaning to our days, and weeks, years which has been difficult. Distancing from our people, our families brings me profound sadness. I want to be able to collect each other, reach out with a hug, and with an open door. My daughter’s 9th birthday was in quarantine,  her annual spring softball season was cancelled, year-end school celebrations to be held over zoom. The annual local fair to mark summer solstice has been cancelled. It is amazing how much we had taken these simple pleasures, these privileges for granted until they are, at least for now, no longer there. A letting go of what was, while confronting a new way of living. There sits the weight of absence, with joy and lightness sitting alongside.

 

Trying to find the deeper meaning, the hidden messages and attune to the wisdom in the learning from this time is an opportunity to step back and re-evaluate. What do I wish for our family to go back to, and what do I wish for us to step away from? What brings us together, what binds? What connects us?  Is there no greater purpose for me than in the here and now, to create a soft place for my family to land and a vision of the world I wish my daughter to remember, one that holds profound love.