The Awe of Intentions
Yesterday I was privileged to host Feed Your Soul—a new gathering for women at Souls Center. 18 glorious women showed up to write intentions for the new year, 2017, on small pieces of white ribbon that we later pinned and sewed onto an appliqué piece, I made, called, The Dawn. This linen piece used to be a favorite skirt that I simply wore out. That’s what I do with most of my favorite clothes. I wear them until they need large patches, like trees or mountains or rising suns—even dragons! Then with more time, the weave can no longer be preserved despite over-the-top patches, and liners. So I cut them up and make them into other projects.
My children were home while I was away. They are of age to take care of themselves for a few hours at a time. We are in transition marked by their increasing independence and my decreasing identity as sole mothering caretaker. The shift has been slow, precise, and intentional.
When I came home after such an inspiring and elevating afternoon, I was greeted with happy and at ease children. We went out to dinner and played the entire evening. As bedtime started to roll in, thoughts that I hadn’t yet written an AWE blog post began to nag. Taunts that I was not aligned with my commitment to write daily poked and prodded beside the sweet warm cuddles of my youngest.
My daughters begged me to climb into the big bed and read bedtime stories and poetry with them. Initially, their beautiful reading voices mixed with my own inner negative dialogue until a single glaring moment.
I paused. I took a deep breath. With discerned intention, I chose to stay with them, falling naturally toward sleep. I could have tucked them in for the night, scrambling down to the computer to fulfill my commitment but I’m certain that is all I would have been doing--fulfilling a commitment without fully participating in the whole process. That is not how one lives with intention.
A smile erupted on my face as I pulled my girls toward me even closer. Their warmth and sweet soapy smells enveloped me. I knew I would write about intention sometime today as a representative of yesterday’s post. And here it is.
Here’s the validation of my decision: This morning I awoke to news that a school-mate of my son, Reo, and his mother were tragically killed yesterday. Imagine if I had been so focused on my self-prescribed goal, that I followed the nonsensical berating voice, prioritizing it over the needs and desires of my girls.
Living with intention requires that we listen to a deeper voice, a softer wiser guide.