In just a few weeks he will enter this world.
I call him King Buddha because he is a chub already. Also because my daughter-in-law said that he doesn't move as much as she expected. He's rather chill. (Unlike his father, my son, who never stopped moving in the womb!) So I imagine that when he enters this world, K.B. will be an observer, absorbing what he witnesses in his new life with deep pool eyes and a steel trap mind. A wise one. (Let's see!) A wise Leo. Love it. Leo's gift is passion; so if you find one with wisdom also, that's getting a little superhuman.
Speaking of wise. And things on the way.
Wisdom comes from experience. Usually tough experience. Wisdom means you know because you lived it. No one can tell you different, because you have it firsthand.
Wisdom is a settling of that pain into the sweet dew of peace and embrace. The fragrance of wisdom anoints your skin. Accepting that you got to where you are by the road there was. It seemed like a broken road, but looking back, you can see you were just 'on your way'. In your new sight, it seems less broken and more mysterious. Now you see what was hidden behind THAT door.
Yourself. As you are now. Wise.
I was talking on the phone with my mom the other day. She has a great listening gift; which is good because she got a daughter (me) that has a huge talking gift, ha ha ha. When I talked with her, I was expressing my continuing concern about the lengthy transitional period I am in.
I'm not in a bad place. In fact, most of the time I am deeply grateful. I feel that I escaped, in the most literal sense, a hellish past--a hellish ME. And any day that isn't THAT--is a good day.
But no matter how well I practice being in the here and now (I've actually become excellent at this!), there is always a part of me that is in a hurry for what is still coming. I'm not who I used to be, but I'm not yet who I'm going to be.
I feel not quite strong enough for it. And I know that's why I have the gift of transition--to have the time and practice of becoming strong. If I keep going, hour by hour living the basic healing practices that I know, and being open to new gifts--then I know I'll wake up on a morning and almost without warning, the butterfly me will have emerged. Wise and laughing, and with a little bit of pleasant amnesia about the road I took to get there.
But right now, I'm in the chrysalis.
But I do want to be on this day too. The day where I can hear the morning birds as I write this. The day where there is water in the air. (I live in Arizona, so I can always tell when there is a little water in the usually desert dry air.) The day where my sons and I are looking forward to school in a few weeks. The day where I am going to clean out a cupboard in my kitchen. The day where I am going to take my son out to practice his driving. The day where I am going to struggle with how much sugar I'm going to eat today (thankfully relieved when I say no, excited and childlike when I say yes; ha ha ha; it's all good).
The day where I am waiting for King Buddha to hit the world to tell his Grammy what he already knows.