what if there are better things to do with your peace other than always protecting it?
what if our peace isn’t meant to be so rigidly protected? what if is not such a fragile thing that we need to watch over it? what if it is not helpless and weak?
what if, instead, our peace is meant to be integrated, worshiped, seen, and consulted?
what if the defending of our peace is causing it to shrink? we treat our peace as if it’s scarce and could run out at any moment.
but maybe our peace is a practice, maybe it’s something we wake up every morning and water and feed and sit with and talk to and laugh with and tell our secrets to and take its advice.
maybe protecting our peace is driving contentment, ease, and connection away.
notice the felt sense of these two sentences:
i am protecting my peace.
i am tending to my peace.
the first invokes a sense of tightening in the body. i feel tense and firm. i feel hypervigilant. i feel activated.
the second invokes a feeling of softening. i feel relaxed and it feels like a breath of fresh air.
it makes me feel like the main character in the game wyldeflowers (my absolute faveee), tara, taking care of her garden.
i would plant my seeds with intention, measuring where the seeds should go in the fresh soil, making sure that my soul was nutritious. i would wait for the perfect weather, would do research, and observe, and ask my neighbors for advice. i would use a beautiful watering can to quench its thirsty roots. if there was a storm, i would cover my garden beds until it passed.
so, yes, in that sense, i would protect my garden. but i wouldn’t only protect it. when i would know danger is coming, i would make sure to take the steps needed to secure my garden’s success. and, if something happened to one of my plants, i would grieve it, sure, but i would move on. i would try again next time, having learned from that failure situation. i would also have my other garden beds to take care of. some plants require more frequent watering or more attunement or protection. some are more fragile. some are hearty and impossible to mess up. some are fragile at first, but then grow strong. some only bloom once a year. some only flourish in the spring, or the winter.
if your peace was a garden, how would you take care of it?
some ideas on how we can engage with our peace instead:
nurture your peace
discover your peace
cultivate your peace
tend to your peace
sit with your peace
celebrate your peace
share your peace
extend your peace
savor your peace
embody your peace
trust your peace
cherish your peace
trust your peace
experience your peace
thoughts? questions? leave em below!
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letters to mothering ourselves
Whether Mother’s Day is easy, exciting, challenging, complicated, sad, happy, or just neutral for you, we also deserve to celebrate the mothering we give to ourselves. Even someone with the most mature and available mother still parents themselves.